A Different Life
by rayvern
Summary: Harry was sent to the orphanage by the Dursley. How will a different life affect his character and perspective of things? and who is this mysterious 'uncle' looking for him?
1. Drunk Caretaker and Beatings

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created and owns Harry Potter, and all other characters that you recognize here. Plot is inspired by various fanfics including Let History Repeat Itself by Dauphin, and Conspiracy of Silence by Nomad.

Conversation - " . . . "

Thoughts - ' . . . '

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Prologue

The sun rose on the tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door. A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive as the occupants awaken to another normal day. Or so they thought. 

Mrs Dursley opened the front door to put out the milk bottles as per normal, and immediately froze when she saw the bundle of blankets on her front steps. Within lay a sleeping baby with jet-black hair, and a curiously shaped scar on his forehead, like a blot of lightning. 

She let out a piercing scream loud enough to wake the dead, "Ver- Vernon!"

The baby, so rudely awakened by the scream, let out a shrill wail to show its displeasure. 

A sound of haste followed as her husband tumbled out of bed and rushed down to see what was wrong. His eyes followed her pointed finger to the wailing bundle that lay on their doorstep. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, certain that he must be dreaming, but "is that a BABY on our doorstep?" he asked incredulously.

He looked to his wife, wondering what it was all about, but only saw a mixture of fear and disgust. Realization dawned in his eyes and he said in a deceptively calm voice, "It's one of **them**, isn't it?"

Petunia nodded, still not saying a word, wondering what they should do. Vernon made that decision for her, contempt in every word, "there is **no way** that the **freak** is staying here. He'll have to go to the orphanage."

"But- but theywill know... an- and it's not safe..." Petunia stammered before her husband cut her off forcefully, "I will not allow that freakto contaminate my son and our home with his- his abnormality!" His voice softened as he attempted to reassure her, "Don't worry, he'll be gone before noon and they probably will not bother to check on him until he needs to attend that- that freakish school. We'll burn the letter. No one will know."

With that, he roughly picked up the crying bundle from the front step, and drove off in his car, looking for the nearest orphanage available. Stopping at a traffic junction, he turned to glare at **it**, his annoyance steadily mounting with the incessant noise that it was making. "Shut up!" He snapped. It continued crying, driving him mad.

'_Figures that the brat will annoy me to no end,' _he thought. _'Oh well, he'll be none of my business once he's off my hands. I hope the orphanage is abusive. The freak deserves it…'_

Chapter 1

Of Drunk Caretaker and Beatings

There was a loud bang as the door swung open, revealing the drunken caretaker that stumbled through the doorway. All the children looked on in wide- eyed fear and backed away as danger pressed closer. "You there! Boy, what are you staring at?" he growled, advancing towards the 5 year old boy who's shaking his head and turning to run. He caught him easily despite being unsteady on his feet. "Thought you could be disrespectful to me and get away eh? We'll see about that you brat…" He ranted before lifting a hand, preparing to strike the poor boy.

"Stop it! He didn't do anything." A voice cried out from the back. 

Keleman, the caretaker, turned in surprised at being interrupted. Then anger flashed across his face. "Who said that?" A little boy with a messy mop of raven black hair came forward, trying to look brave, but his whitened knuckles, clutched tight to prevent them from trembling, gave him away. "So it's you again, trying to be heroic and save him from a beating eh?" Keleman sneered. 

The little boy lifted his head defiantly, green eyes flashing with anger and disgust at this man, who was supposed to be their caretaker but instead abused them whenever he is drunk. This man, whose name means gentle and kind. How ironic. His nature could not be any further from the meaning of his name.

"Very well, you shall take his place." Keleman reached out to grab him as the meaning of his words sunk in too late. The boy struggled and thrashed about wildly, trying to get free, but Keleman's grip tightened until it felt like his bone was about to break. He gasped in pain, a bruise rapidly forming on his pale skin. The first blow struck his cheek so hard, he could taste blood in his mouth. Then another two punches in the face and stomach. He was screaming and crying, his eyes pleading with the watching orphans to do something to help. But they all stood frozen in horror and fear, not daring to do anything, in case the caretaker's attention turned to them. 

The beating continued as Keleman vent all his frustrations and anger on the boy in his drunken haze, barely registering the fact that the boy was already fast becoming unconscious. He finally stopped, and threw the boy onto the floor carelessly, like a broken rag doll. He gave the injured boy a last kick and deliberately stepped on his right wrist, hearing the sickening sound of crunch as the bone snapped before walking from the room. The watching orphans rushed to their companion's side once Keleman's back was turned, trying to revive him.

But Keleman's voice from the doorway stopped them in their tracks. "Leave the boy. Let this be a lesson to all those who are disrespectful and defiant. Your fate will be the same, if not worse, if you persist." He smiled sinisterly before striding upstairs to his room. The orphans looked at each other uncertainly, not daring to defy the caretaker yet not wanting to leave their companion who suffered the beating so they could be safe. However, their sense of self- preservation won out and each fled from the room. All slept with an uneasy mind that night. (with the exception of the caretaker, of course.) 

Dawn came, and gentle rays of sunlight shone through the windows into the darkened room, revealing a broken boy lying on the floor, his wrist twisted in an unnatural angle, his pale skin marked by numerous bruises. His messy black hair obscured his face, until a breeze blew in, ruffling his hair, and unveiling a strange lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

Soft padded feet walked cautiously down the stairs. A pair of brown eyes peered into the room to check that no one is around before entering and walking over to the unconscious boy's side. 

"Harry…" the boy shook him gently, afraid of aggravating his injuries further. "Harry, please wake up," he pleaded. "We have to get you away before Keleman wakes up and sees you. If not he might get angry again and beat you some more." 

Harry stirred, and moaned in pain as his body ached all over, some parts more so than others. He heard someone calling and tried to open his eyes, gazing dazedly, trying to ignore the pain. "Daniel…" he whispered weakly, looking up at the anxious and concerned face of his friend. 

Daniel sighed in relief at Harry's voice. Although he was fifteen, and Harry only six, the age gap did not matter for Daniel had always looked after Harry like he would a younger brother. "Are you alright? Come on I'm gonna help you get up." Daniel gently slid one arm under Harry's neck, the other under his knees, and slowly lifted him off the floor. Harry let out a sharp gasp of pain as his fractured wrist was moved, and Daniel gave him an apologetic look before carrying him out of the room slowly, careful not to jerk about too much.

Once upstairs, Daniel lay Harry down on a bed and took off his shirt to see the extent of his injuries. He was shocked by the number of bruises on Harry's arms and torso, plus those that were on his face. "Bloody hell!" He said. "I'm so, so sorry I wasn't there Harry. I only heard this morning what had happened. I should have protected you…" 

"Don't feel bad. It's not your fault that you were sick in bed and that Keleman is just a bastard." 

"Harry! Don't swear! Where did you get that word from anyway?" asked Daniel, appalled by his choice of word. 

"It's true anyway. Oh, I heard a couple of older boys using it. Why can't I swear? You do it too."

"That's different. You're only six. Those boys with their bad influence, wait 'til I give them a piece of my mind. Corrupting young children like that…" Daniel muttered.

"Yes, mommy," said Harry impishly despite being injured and in pain.

Daniel immediately stopped his mutterings and smiled wryly. "Sorry I got carried away."

"It's ok. I know you were just trying to protect me."

"Yeah, some kind of protector I am letting you get beaten up by Keleman."

"I'll be ok. A few days of rest and I'll be as good as new."

"As good as new huh? Two broken teeth, countless bruises, one fractured wrist and who knows what else."

"Why don't you check? Not that all this bantering isn't fun but I'm getting cold."

"Right. I forgot." Daniel said sheepishly.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ok, I think there's nothing else besides those I've said. But I'm not the expert. You sure you don't want to see a doctor to make sure?"

"And tell him how I got those injuries? Surely I can't say I got those injuries 'cause I'm such a klutz that I crash into everything when I walk."

"Okok, I get your point." Daniel sighed and proceeded to apply ointment on the bruises and bandage the fractured wrist. " You have a good rest. I doubt Keleman will be sober enough to realise you're missing and go looking for you. He always has a bad hangover."

" 'kay.." Harry murmured, already falling asleep.

Daniel smiled sadly and closed the door softly as he went out.


	2. Bullies, Daniel, and School

Dedicated to k00lgirl1808. Thanks for reviewing. =)

Chapter 2

Of Bullies, Daniel, and School

It was afternoon when Harry woke up. He winced in pain as he tentatively tried to move his wrist. 'Darn, how am I supposed to go for lessons on Monday when I cant even write now?' he thought irritably. All the children aged five and above are required to go to school, as it is part of the town's welfare system to provide an education for all, even orphans. For that he was grateful. It gave him something to look forward to in his dreary life at the orphanage. And it gave him a chance to get away from the caretaker.

Plus he enjoyed reading and learning, very much so. While other kids his age would have been delighted playing with toys and running about, he'd rather prefer to sit in solitude and read quietly. Which is why Harry do not have many friends his age, because he keeps to himself often and do not interact with the others much. Daniel is an exception.

~Flashback~

"Get the boy!" shouted Derrick to his gang of friends. They ran and panted breathlessly, trying to catch the little boy. Five year old Harry looked back and his eyes widened as he saw them catching up, 'oh no, oh no…' he thought frantically. He continued running as fast as he could, dodging their beefy hands which were grabbing at him. Luckily he was small and light on his feet, an advantage over the bullies' big size and clumsiness. He abruptly came to a stop in front of a bricked wall. Dead end. 

'Uh oh… stupid, stupid, stupid…' he berated himself for unknowingly running into a deserted alley. 

The bullies caught up and advanced menacingly, cracking their knuckles in anticipation. "Now we've got you, boy," Derrick said smugly.

Harry's eyes darted around for an escape route but there was none as Derrick and his gang of bullies had blocked the whole path. 

"You can't get away this time. Though goodness knows how you got away the previous times…" he trailed off.

Perhaps that was why they kept chasing Harry. He always got away, seeming to vanish around the corner. These thwarted attempts at bullying had only fueled their determination to get him. Harry barely knows how he got away too. It was a big mystery to him. 

Like that time, one moment he was on the ground, running from them and the next moment he was on the roof, safely out of their reach.

Then there was once when he was cornered with the boys advancing on him, yet they could not get within 5 feet of him. There seemed to be an invisible wall preventing them from getting closer. Harry had actually closed his eyes, waiting for the first blow, but it never came. Cautiously opening his eyes, he saw the boys beating at the air, but could not get through. He was bewildered, but quickly became amused at their attempts to break down a wall that no one could see. 

Harry could not figure out how it happened, it was like… like magic.

"…nothing and no one can save you now," Derrick finished evilly. He gave a signal to his friends and one punched him in the stomach. "Help!" was all Harry managed to scream before one of them covered his mouth.

"Hey! What are you trying to do?" came a voice from behind. The boys turned, and saw Daniel. They paled and started to run off. But Daniel grabbed Derrick by the shirt- front and pulled him up, eye to eye with him. "Shame on you for bullying a five year old kid. Pick on someone your own size if you have the guts. Don't let me catch you doing it again or else…" with that unspoken threat plain in his voice, Daniel let Derrick go.

"Yes-yess sir..." Derrick stammered before scrambling off.

Harry watched all this in amazement. For once, Derrick is actually scared of someone.

Daniel approached him, saying, "Bullies like Derrick are cowards at heart. He won't dare to pick a fight with me just because I'm older and bigger. But it's ok now; he won't bother you in future."

Daniel stretched out a hand, "Come on, I'll walk you back."

Harry looked at the hand uncertainly, hesitant to trust a total stranger. He looked up and saw an encouraging smile on Daniel's face. All doubts vanished as he knew in his heart that Daniel would not hurt him. And thus, begin a friendship of sorts between Harry and Daniel, which gradually became 'kinship' as Daniel took Harry under his wing, 'adopting' him as a younger brother.

~End Flashback~

"Well, how do I write with a fractured wrist?" Harry pondered. The door creaked, alerting him to someone entering. Daniel looked at the serious expression on Harry face and asked, "What are you thinking about?" 

"Hmm? Oh just thinking how I'm gonna write with this." Harry replied absently, lifting his bandaged wrist. 

"You'll have to wait for it to heal. School work can wait." 

"What! And miss all those lessons? Absolutely not! This could take a few weeks to heal, may be even 2 months." Harry said in despair at being deprived of weeks or even months of learning. 

"I don't see an alternative. Unless you want to learn to use your left hand to write." Daniel suggested offhandedly.

Harry jumped up and hugged him in excitement. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that? Daniel, you're brilliant!"

"Huh? What did I say?" Daniel asked in confusion.

"Learn to write with my left hand!" Harry exclaimed, and continued jumping about, happy with the solution.

"But it'll take time-" Daniel said before Harry cut him off, "Faster than it'll take for my wrist to heal. I can start now and use the weekend to practice."

Daniel thought for a moment, and said nothing more, conceding the argument to Harry. For he knows that once Harry has made up his mind, it would be useless trying to persuade him to abandon the idea. 

Over the next two days, Harry spent most of his time in the room, practicing how to write with his left hand. Keleman had apparently forgotten all about him and it was a relief that he did not notice Harry's absence at mealtimes. However that does not mean that Harry is starving, as Daniel would smuggle food to him.

His bruises were fading, though his wrist had not fully mended. And his progress with learning to write with his left hand was fast; he would still be slower than others, but that level of speed was sufficient in class. It was quite an accomplishment, considering that he only had two days to practice, and knowing Harry, probably even nights as he stayed up late.

As always, Harry was glad to go to school, even with a fractured wrist, and this morning was no different. He loves books and the knowledge one could gain from reading them. It was like being in a totally new and exciting world when one was engrossed in a book. With books, he could forget the harsh realities of this world, and gain the upper hand with the power of knowledge. 

His teachers had been amazed at his reading abilities at the age of five when he first started attending school. His pronunciation of words was fairly accurate, and he had a good memory of everything he had read. This was because he had taught himself how to read before attending school, borrowing textbooks or storybooks from the older kids, listening to the way adults speak, and the way words were sounded. Harry had studiously read his way through the school library at an age where other boys were still getting used to sounding out their letters. All his teachers thought that he was a truly remarkable boy, child genius even. But he did not like all that attention, keeping quiet during class, only listening and observing in silence. In tests, he sometimes deliberately made mistakes so that his score would not be too high. After some time, all the fuss about him faded away as he hid his talent, staying in the background. 

His form teacher, Ms Mackenzie, was not so easily fooled and would observe him from time to time, but this morning she did not say anything if she noticed him writing with his left hand. Harry sighed in relief at that. He did not fancy having to answer those uncomfortable questions about where he got his injuries. Probably she thought he fell from a tree when playing with the other children or something. He snorted at that notion. She would have never thought that or believed it if she knew him well enough.


	3. Good byes, changed perspective and pa

Chapter 3: for all those who reviewed, kateydidnt, Otaku freak, Rachel A. Prongs, Spacecatdet, k00lgirl1808, FlamingDragon5, Melissa Lupin, Lady Phoenix Gryffindor, asellus, Cora, Jarvey, Old Fawkes, Vulture aka Sham, ER, Digi bonds, Lilobgirl, Crystal, TTDT, smallfry, Snoopy

A big thank you to TTDT who helped me proof-read this, for putting up with my whining and indecision. And thanks to all reviewers. =) you really kept me going. After all I wouldn't be writing this story if not for you readers. Please don't kill me after you read this cuz I think my characterisation and organisation leaves much to be desired. . .

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Replies to reviews

Otaku freak: Harry wouldn't know he's using magic until someone explains it to him. But he is intelligent enough to know that these strange happenings are not normal, that there's something special about him. I wouldn't exactly call this wandless magic, rather it's accidental magic, something he has no control over. But it happens because he unconsciously wished it to be so. Like he wished to get away from the bullies, causing him to appear at the rooftop or he wished to be protected from them, erecting an invisible wall/shield.

Spacecatdet: Hmm.. this fic is mostly Harry centric, and another mystery character later.. not telling now.. =x So Albus and the others would not be mentioned at all until.. 2 or 3 chapters later? Perhaps more, perhaps less, depending on how long the chapters are and how much I can write. As to them noticing Harry isn't with the Dursley, there is no mention of wizards checking up on them or monitoring Harry in the books so I'll just take it that no one knows and everyone assumes that Harry is safely staying with his relatives.

Old Fawkes: thank you =) I'll try to add in a few more scenes of six yr old Harry for you.. but no promises. It all depends on my muse.. hehz.. any suggestions welcomed.

ER: thanks, but I need a beta reader mainly to tell me if the story is smooth flowing or too abrupt, give comments and suggestions for me to improve on before I actually post it. Spotting mistakes along the way is a plus.. hehz

Crystal: thanks though I hate to disappoint you.. I was going to make Harry evil.. =x ok maybe not evil evil but not goodie goody either. 

Snoopy: I know I keep switching around but sometimes it just sounds right. Like "Which is why Harry do not have many friends his age, because he keeps to himself often and do not interact with others." / "For he knows that once Harry has made up his mind" / "He loves books" etc is kind of like a fact now so it is in present tense instead of past. For this chapter, those switching parts are when I want to bring out the feelings/ thoughts of Harry at that instant. Sorry if you don't like it but if I keep worrying about that, this story will never get anywhere. Plus it gives me a headache ;)

Rachel A. Prongs: Yar I know, I didn't quite like the 1st version of this chapter, too abrupt. So I took it down and rewrote it to make it gradual, hope it's better now. Please re-read it and tell me what you think.

Kateydidnt: I'm not sure about that because I haven't planned that far ahead. If there's a chance, Dan would make an appearance later in the story.

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Chapter 3

Of good byes, changed perspective and payback

It was a pleasant afternoon, with the sun shining warmly overhead, and cool breeze blowing back his hair. Harry was lying down on his front under a tree, shaded and comfortably settled on the soft carpet grass beneath, hard at work as he did the day's assigned homework, scribbling furiously with his left hand. He was getting more proficient at using his left hand now; it barely matters that he could not use his right hand as his wrist was still mending. 

"Hey Harry," a voice said softly. 

Harry turned around, and smiled upon seeing who it was. "Daniel. What's up? Come sit down." Harry patted the patch of grass beside him. Daniel sat down, seemingly deep in thought. Harry waited for him to speak, sensing that something was troubling him.

" Harry," Daniel began hesitantly. " I- I was adopted this morning. And... and I'll be leaving with them tonight."

Harry was shocked, " Wha- what? That... that means you're leaving me too?" his lower lip trembled at the thought of losing his friend. More than that, they were like brothers.

I know it's really abrupt and sudden. I was also surprised when they chose me, after all I'm already so old and it's rare that people want to adopt a teenager," Daniel said in a rush. "But I'd always longed for a family. I- I really hope you'd be happy for me…" he trailed off.

Harry tried to control his tears. "Of course I'm happy for you Dan. Don't forget about me when you're gone 'kay? We'll always be best brothers," he said, slipping into an old nickname for Daniel, giving him a rather watery smile.

"Of course! Of course… you're the only brother I have." Daniel hugged Harry fiercely, a tinge of sadness in his voice. He pulled back and gave Harry a smile, albeit a forced one, "So what should we do today little brother?"

Harry saw that Daniel was trying to put on a cheerful front for him, for them, to make this separation easier. He attempted to smile back, putting some enthusiasm in his words, "Whatever you want to do." His voice softened, "I'm happy as long as you're with me."

Daniel looked at Harry's face, and saw the sincerity of his words in his emerald green eyes. Those eyes say so much, conveying love, understanding, and… sadness in their depths. He shook himself mentally and pulled Harry onto his feet, "Well let's go! Won't want to waste anymore of this lovely afternoon, would you? Race you to the park!" he shouted playfully before taking off.

"Hey! No fair! You got a head start!" Harry protested, and laughingly ran after him, determined not to think about the separation now.

Dan was already on the swings when Harry reached there, his face flushed, and breathing fast from the race. 

"Cheat… ter... bug…" he gasped out. 

Daniel only smiled cheekily at him, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Well, what forfeit shall you have for losing?"

"Oh no, you don't!" said Harry, slowly backing away as he saw the wheels turning in Dan's head coming a full circle. He turned to run, anticipating what was coming. But Daniel was too fast, pinning Harry on the grass and proceeded to tickle him mercilessly. 

"Oh! Oh- stop! Stop! I can't- can't breathe… hah… hah…" Harry alternated between laughing helplessly and protesting weakly, catching his breath in the short respite from being tickled. Daniel finally relented and let him up. Harry just lay there on the grass, recovering from the bout of tickling. He then sat up and scowled at Dan, trying to look angry but failing miserably as it only made him look more adorable with his face screwed up. Dan tried to look properly cowed by his look but ended up bursting in laughter, earning a hurt look from Harry.

"I'm sorry Harry, it's just that it's impossible for you to look scary with that face," Dan said, still laughing.

"Ya, I know. It's just so awful being adorable no matter what," Harry sighed theatrically. 

"Yah right." Dan rolled his eyes at Harry's dramatic proclamation.

"Glad you agreed," he replied impishly, green eyes sparkling.

Dan let out a long- suffering sigh, "Ok ok, I give up."

Harry only gave him an innocent look that seemed to say, "Who? Me?"

Dan shook his head resignedly at that and suggested, " You wanna play the swings now? I'll push you."

Harry nodded and climbed onto the swing, hands holding the ropes at his sides. There was a rush of wind in his face as Dan gave a great push, sending him high into the air. "Wheee! This is so fun!" he cried to Dan. Dan gave him an indulgent look, and pushed even harder, sending him higher, while smiling at his obvious happiness. 'Ah, the simplicity of childhood…' Dan thought wistfully.

The two boys spent the whole day together, sitting on swings, splashing water at each other from the pond, chasing each other around the park, teasing and having fun. They watched the sun set over the horizon in silence, the orange ball of light moving lower in the sky. Pink, purple and orange streaks coloured the sky, painting a very pretty picture. Unfortunately it also marked the end of the day as dusk was fast approaching, and reluctantly the two boys went back to the orphanage.

Daniel's adopted parents were already waiting for him. Dan hugged Harry one last time, and Harry clung to him desperately, not wanting to let go. Daniel pried Harry's arms from his neck and whispered, "Good bye, dear brother. I'll write. Take care of yourself." 

Harry's throat constricted, on the brink of tears. 'I mustn't cry. It will make Dan sadder. I must be brave for him. I'll be happy for him.' he thought. "Bye," he choked out. " I'll miss you." 

Silence. There is nothing else to be said. Nothing else can be said, the unspoken words resounding more clearly and loudly than anything. 

He watched as Dan turned from him and walked away. Everything in him was screaming 'Don't go!' But it is not possible to change things. Harry resisted the impulse to run after Dan and hug him, pleading for him to stay. He could only watch, standing still in the walkway long after the car disappeared from sight, silent tears falling. In his state of paralysis, he vaguely felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, accompanied by a soft whisper of a feminine voice carried by the wind, "Hush, my child, don't cry. Everything will be all right, you'll see…"

All around the children were playing amidst the shrieks of laughter and joy. Only one lone boy sat by himself under a tree, watching the activities with indifference. It was not normal to see such a look on a young boy. But Harry had become more withdrawn after Dan left, immersing himself in books more than ever. 

He did not normally mix around with the other children, but it quickly became apparent that they were avoiding him more than usual due to some unknown reason. It was almost as if he had the plague. 'Yes, 'avoiding him like a plague' would be an appropriate phrase to use. It is most curious,' he thought, frowning when he remembered the incident that happened a few days ago.

__

"Bang!" came the sound, as someone crashed into Harry.

"Sorry, didn't see you around the corner," the other boy apologized as he bent down to pick up his fallen books.

"Here, I'll help you." Harry handed him a few books.

"Thanks." The other boy looked up, and froze for a second before quickly backing away. "Er… er- bye," he stuttered and ran off hurriedly, leaving Harry to stare after him in puzzlement, wondering what the hell just happened.

It was then that he noticed the other kids around acting strangely, all of them giving him a wide berth. It wasn't that he craved company but he knew that this was getting ridiculous when they kept scrambling off the moment he came near.

All right, he'd had enough. "I'm gonna get to the bottom of this today." He stalked determinedly towards one of the kids and cornered him before he could run off like the others. "Ok, what's going on? Why is everyone avoiding me?"

"Er.. er.. I don't know!" said the smaller boy, looking around desperately.

"Tell me and I'll let you go," he coaxed softly.

The boy wavered, and finally blurted out, "Everyone's avoiding you 'cuz they're scared of Keleman. He told us to leave you alone and they don't wanna get on his bad side."

Harry was stunned, letting the boy go in his distraction. 'But why?' he thought, bewildered. 'Didn't I help them? Why do they avoid me because Keleman says so? He is the bad guy, I'm their friend.' His six-year-old mind could not comprehend the instincts of self-preservation. He only knew that good guys were right; bad guys were wrong. To his way of thinking, there was a clear line separating right and wrong, good and evil, white and black. No shades of grey in between. So to him, listening to the bad guy is definitely a 'wrong' thing to do. 

He tried to persuade the other children to his way of thinking. "Keleman is bad. Why do you let him control you? He is mean and beats us all the time. We should fight against him," he declared passionately.

All the other kids were standing at least 3 metres away from him, keeping their distance. They looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "You are mad. Fight against him? What can we do? We are only children and he will only beat us more severely if we do that," a voice spoke up from the back, causing the others to nod in agreement.

"But... but we can't just live in fear of him and do nothing," Harry protested.

"You go ahead if you want to but we are not doing anything. Keleman already beats us for no reason. Who knows what state we might end up in when he actually has one?" With that, the group scattered amidst the murmuring, leaving Harry to stand there by himself, alone again. 

In contrast to the younger kids avoiding him, the bullying from the older boys had started up again, namely trouble in the form of Derrick and his gang. He strutted around smugly as there is no one to stop him from bullying Harry who was free-game now that Dan was gone. 

'This is getting soooo old,' thought Harry as he ran from the bullies. 'There must be a better way to end this than running away every time.' Suddenly a brilliant idea struck and he ran towards the warehouse at the end of the street, turning at the corner and hid himself under a car. He heard them trampling past and Derrick's voice saying, "He can't have disappeared. Maybe he hid in the warehouse. Let's go in and check." 

Hearing that, Harry smirked to himself and counted to ten, "1, 2, . . . 8, 9, 10..."

"Ah!" followed the collective screams of the boys as 3 vicious-looking watchdogs chased them out of the warehouse, barking and snipping at their heels. "Help! Help!"

Their voices faded away as they disappeared down the street. Harry allowed himself a small chuckle at their unfortunate fates. 'Trust them to be stupid enough to fall for the trap. First rule of the book: Never walk into enemy territory blindly. **Everyone** knows that there are watchdogs in the warehouse. They probably didn't even pause to think before entering,' he thought scornfully. 'Well, better go and enjoy the rest of my afternoon before they get back from exercising the dogs,' he snickered.

He spent the rest of the day under his favourite tree, reading about the Salem Witch Trials and wondering why people could be so ignorant and superstitious to the extent that more than twenty innocent people died. The evidences for their convictions of witchcraft were totally absurd. Harry was interrupted from his indignant thoughts by the pathetic sight of Derrick and his gang walking up the path to the gate. Their faces were smudged with dirt and their clothes had grass stains and mud on them; parts of it were even jagged and torn. And one of them was limping slightly. They glared at him as they passed, but Harry just looked innocent and pretended to read his book, surreptitiously keeping an eye on them in case they tried anything on him. 

Since that incident, Derrick and his gang tread around Harry carefully, giving him wary glances. Needless to say, they also stopped bothering him, having learnt their lesson that he was not to be trifled with. Keleman, however, is another matter.

"You insolent brat! How dare you talk back at me? I'll teach you to be respectful to your elders. Oh yes I will…" Keleman lashed out at Harry, finishing his tirade with a malicious smile. He then grabbed Harry by his upper arms and dragged him to his office, leaving the other orphans to stare after them. He pushed Harry inside and locked the door behind him before going to a cupboard, seeming to search for something. Harry lifted his chin and stared defiantly at Keleman, masking his fear with anger. But his mask slipped when he saw what Keleman held in his hands. 

It was a round wooden baton 18 inches long, 1½ inches wide, and clad in a light green woolen cloth. Each end had ¼ inch strips of the green cloth stitched around as a sort of decoration. There were nine tails of a stoutish cord, each 24 inches long. The tails were knotted 3 times each at approximately ½ to 2 inches intervals, and the tips were bound with thread (to prevent fraying). The first knot was about 2 inches from the end of each strand. 

Harry turned pale and his eyes widened as he recognised the object for what it was. A **bloody** cat-o'-nine-tail. He vividly remembered something he had read on corporal punishments in the 18th century. [Lashes (being struck with a whip) were administered in the hundreds at a time and sometimes the prisoner died as a result. He was often scarred for life. Often the whip was the dreaded "cat 'o nine tails" which was a whip with nine separate woven tails with a knot and three strands at the end of each one…] The book even had a ghastly picture of a man who had been whipped. He shuddered involuntary. ' I thought those things extinct ages ago. Where did he get that?'

'Ok, this is **not** good.' Harry watched fearfully as Keleman advanced on him with the instrument of torture in his hands, too shocked to run. The caretaker took advantage of this as he tied Harry to a chair and stripped him to the waist, leaving him bound and helpless. He fingered the whip almost lovingly, a sadistic twist to his lips. "You know, I haven't had to use this for a long time," he said conversationally. "But I'm sure there's nothing that a good lashing can't fix. And that includes your insolent tongue and defiant behavior." 

Harry closed his eyes as Keleman raised the whip, sending a plea heavenward, 'Somebody save me'. Keleman brought the whip down with a "crack", striking on Harry's bare back. Harry clenched his jaw, preventing a scream. At first it only caused a mild stinging, but Keleman kept bringing down the whip on the same spot, striking weakened flesh repeatedly. It gradually became more painful as his skin broke open, exposing underlying muscles and bleeding flesh. "Ah! Help! Stop! Please stop… I won't do it again…" he screamed as the pain became too much, sobbing and pleading for mercy.

Keleman gave a few more lashes for emphasis before he finally stopped. Stepping back, he glanced at the boy's lacerated and bruised back, admiring his handiwork for a second before bringing his full attention back to the broken boy hanging limply from the chair. "See that you remember this lesson, boy," he said coldly. Harry, already barely conscious, slumped to the floor in a dead faint as he was untied, welcoming the darkness that brought oblivion from the pain. 

Keleman looked down and frowned at the unconscious boy. It was all well and good to punish children when they misbehave, but he would get into trouble with the law if the silly boy died from all those bleeding. 'Boys these days can't even take a little beating,' he thought in disgust. 'Well, better get someone to bandage him up before he bleeds all over my carpet and does more damage to it.' So he left, leaving Harry alone in the dark.

No one saw an ethereal figure with copper red tresses bending over the unconscious boy, smoothing out his hair from his sweaty brow, murmuring soothing but indiscernible words. Some would say it was a hallucination, others would think it a ghost. But no one saw. And no one heard her sorrowful last words as she flickered out of sight, an echo of "I'm so sorry…" fading into the darkness.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, acutely aware of the pain in his back. How could he not be? Every nerve was screaming in protest. He looked around and realised that he was lying in his own bed, his back bandaged. 'Strange. Who would be so nice?' he thought. He had fully expected himself to wake up still in Keleman's office, dried blood caked on his back, or perhaps he would not wake up at all, having died from the lashing. 'Oh of course! Keleman. After all, he wouldn't want me to die on him and be jailed for child abuse and attempted murder.' Harry thought sardonically. ' That shrewd, sadistic, scheming bastard.'

Sitting up carefully, he walked slowly down to the dining hall where the orphans have their meals, his injuries paining him with every step he took. All the other children looked subdued, having heard the screams that came from Keleman's office the day before, knowing that something terrible had happened to him. They just don't know how terrible, or the extent of his injuries. Looking around at them, he saw that no one dared to meet his eyes, all staring at their feet and fidgeting guiltily.

After a few moments of silence he finally understood something: no one was going to help him. No one was on his side. Despite those times that he had helped them, no one would lift a finger to help him for fear of getting into trouble with Keleman. 

His eyes hardened, and his face smoothed into a blank mask. He would not beg. He would not plead with them. He was too proud for that. And he knows it would not change their attitude towards him; he might as well save himself the humiliation. So he walked from the hall with whatever dignity he had left, his movements rigidly controlled, not sparing at backward glance at those whom he had once regarded as friends. Not close friends perhaps, but growing up together in the same orphanage should count for something. Before, they had stuck together and stood up for one another. But now they… even Dan was gone…

Once outside, he ran to the park where he and Dan used to play, where they used to laugh and have fun. Those happy times seemed a world away from the reality now. There, he allowed the tears to fall, crying for his loss of a dear brother, of innocence, of childhood, being forced to grow up faster than he should in a brutal world where good means nothing and people of authority and power always win. He cried until he could not cry anymore, until there were no more tears left. 

'I will not cry again,' he vowed resolutely. 'There is nothing more to cry for. It is a sign of weakness I can't afford.'

He remembered thinking once 'He is the bad guy, I'm their friend.' 

'Hah! What a joke!' he thought bitterly, hurt at their betrayal. 'Who needs enemies when you have friends like this. Friends who would turn their backs on you just to protect themselves. I don't need friends. I don't need anyone. I'll take care of myself and what's mine, to hell with the rest of them! Who cares about standing up for what's right? Only power and authority truly matters in this world.'

From that moment on, Harry underwent a complete transformation. He became cold and calculative, his face an impassive mask, never showing any emotions that might betray his true feelings or intent. He kept his distance, watching and observing in silence, filing away any information or detail that might be useful. Gone were his naive notions of right and wrong, of fairness and justice. He only knew that no one would watch his back, so he'd have to look out for himself.


	4. Interlude: A dark stormy night

Thank you to all my reviewers! I will consider all your suggestions and ideas. 

A/N: This is just a short interlude while I get more feedback on your choice of bad/evil harry in this story. Sorry it's so short but I'm kind of stuck with words at the moment. Review with any questions/comments/ideas/suggestions/constructive criticism that you have. Reviews motivate me to write faster ;) hehz

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Interlude: A dark stormy night (Halloween, 31st Oct 1986)

Rain clouds gathered over horizon, warning of an imminent thunderstorm. Lightning flashed across the night sky and thunder sounded in the distance, illuminating a lone figure standing on a hilltop in the dark. His black cloak billowed behind as the wind blew and rain droplets start to fall. But the figure just stood there, unmoving and seemingly unaffected, staring at the two graves in front of him. 

Another flash of lightning revealed the words on the two headstones for a second.

Lily Evans-Potter

21st June 1960 - 31st Oct 1981

Beloved wife and loving mother

"Where there is love there is life." 

James Potter

5th March 1960 - 31st Oct 1981

Hero of the light

"Cowards die many times before their deaths;

The valiant never taste of death but once."

The figure bowed his head slightly, silently grieving. "Lily.." a soundless cry filled with regret. 

It has been five years, exactly five years since she died, but the pain is still fresh in his heart, a wound that was never fully healed with time. 

"I'm sorry.. so sorry.. I failed you..." his soft voice was almost drowned out by the howling winds.

"Remember your promise..." a whisper sounded right beside his left ear, a shaft of colder air brushing by.

"Lily?" he looked up, startled. "Is that you Lil'?"

"Your promisess.. Harry.."

"Yes I remember.. Lily.. please.. show yourself..." he cried almost desperately, looking around for any sign of his dead sister, a ghost, an apparition, an angel.. anything. But there was none.

"I never blamed you dear brother.. please.. don't torture yourself over my death.. I love you... always.." the unseen voice faded away and the winds gradually calmed, leaving the figure to stand alone in the stark silence.

"But I blame myself. . ." he whispered brokenly to the stilled night.

============================================================================

Reference

"Where there is love there is life."

-Mahatma Gandhi

{6} Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. {7} It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. {8} Love never fails.

-1 Corinthians 13: 6 – 7

A/N: I was contemplating whether to use the 1st or 2nd quote for the inscriptions on Lily's headstone but decided on the shorter (1st) one. Leave me a review if you feel that the 2nd one is more appropriate and wants it changed or if you have a better quote. Same goes for the one on James' headstone.

"Cowards die many times before their deaths;

The valiant never taste of death but once."

-William Shakespeare, "Julius Caesar, Act II, Sc. 2, line 32."


	5. Promises and Threats

Ok on the evil/bad Harry choice so far:

15 for bad Harry

5 for evil Harry

2 for good Harry

Results are pretty obvious unless more people want to vote, which is still possible. ;) Thanks to all reviewers! 

Rachel A. Prongs, Nabiki, Colleen, leothelion, kateydidnt, Immortal Rose, RaNdOm Hp FaN, Iniysa, LS, zaksgirllol : thank you for all your ideas and suggestions =)

Smallfry, serapotter, MerlinHalliwell, Jordan, angelhitomi, k00lgirl1808, visbond: thanks for your encouragement =)

Nina, Lita of Jupiter, Melissa Lupin, Ban, LILOBGIRL, genesis: thanks for voting =)

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Replies to reviews

ADJ: thank you =) and yes! You are the first one to say that.. very perceptive.. hehz

k00lgirl1808, Lady Phoenix Gryffindor, Rachel A. Prongs: her brother.. well, I'm not telling now but I think you should be able to get more clues after this chapter. 

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Chapter 4

Promises and Threats

A dark figure stood in the shadows, a silhouette in the dim light provided by the street lamps, looking at the perfectly normal house of number four Privet drive. He curled his lips in distaste at this obviously muggle street, everything so perfectly in place, everything except him that is. With his black cloak billowing out as he walked, his hood up and shielding his face from view, he looked like some vampire straight out of a horror movie. Or a wizard, if the wand twirling in his hands were any indication.

He would not be here if it were not for his sister and the promise he had made. 

~Flashback~

"Promise me that you'll take care of Harry if anything happens to me and James." Lily said suddenly.

"Nothing will happen to you. Besides, he has his godfather." He said firmly, ignoring her request.

"Just in case. Please…" Stray tendrils of hair framed her delicate fair face, the lighting accentuating her pert nose and high cheekbones.

Beseeched with her pleading green eyes, he felt his resolve softening. "Oh alright, I promise. If only to set your mind at ease."

She smiled then, a lovely sweet smile, and said simply, "Thank you."

"But you should know.. that.. circumstances.. will not allow me to take care of Harry."

She looked pained at the subtle reminder, of what he is, and how dangerous it would be. "Yes.. yes I know…" she said softly. "Just.. make sure that he's alright once in a while ok?"

"Lily.. stop talking like you're going to die." He went over to her side and took her hand in his. Looking into her eyes, he said determinedly, " Nothing will happen to you. I won't let it happen."

"I know you won't. But there's nothing you can do." She looked to the fire burning in the hearth, the dancing firelight casting flitting shadows on her lovely profile.

He gripped her shoulders tightly, forcing her to look at him. "Is it another vision?" he asked urgently, worried.

She turned away, saying nothing.

But he knew. 

There was a sinking feeling in his heart and he grounded out angrily, "Can't you prevent it if you know what's going to happen?"

"It's for the best." she said quietly.

"But I don't want you to die!" He was getting more agitated, pacing the room furiously.

"Would you rather more people die while I live?" she queried.

"Yes!" he said emphatically, stopping in his tracks to look at her.

"Luc! How could you say that?!" said Lily, shocked at his answer and seeing the truth of it in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Lil" he said, running his hand through his silky hair in frustration. "I just don't want to lose you."

"You won't lose me. I'll be here, in your heart." She smiled tenderly at him. 

He sighed, knowing nothing would change her mind. She would not save herself, but nothing would stop him from trying to save her. 

'I will not fail.' he vowed resolutely.

The clock struck ten, its chiming interrupting his thoughts, and signaling an end to Lily's visit. She stood up reluctantly and they walked to the door.

"Take care of yourself, Luc." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"You too, sister. Don't do foolish things."

She smiled weakly at that. "I love you.. brother" she hugged him, too choked to say anymore.

Surprised by her act of affection, he awkwardly patted her back before abandoning his restraints and hugged her back tightly. "Love you too sis.." he whispered.

They parted and stood silent for a long time, just looking at each other. Lily seemed to be memorizing his face, every detail, every feature, as if seeing him for the last time. He did the same, his gaze taking in her fair complexion, her perfectly arched eyebrows and deep green eyes framed by long eyelashes, her small pert nose and high cheekbones, her trembling red lips and stubborn chin, her graceful neck and slender figure… 

"Well, goodbye then." She gave him a sad smile and left, apparating home once she had passed the manor's anti-apparation wards. 

He stared unseeingly at the place where she had stood, knowing in his heart that this would perhaps be the last time they would see each other. 

Alive.

Because, either one or both of them will end up dead before this nightmare is over…

~End Flashback~

Indeed, despite his best efforts, it was not enough to save Lily. Too late. He was too late. 'If only…' he thought regretfully. 'No. There is no point dwelling on the past. Time to focus on the task at hand.'

He looked to the house again, the blinds were drawn and there was no visible movement from inside the house. It was nearing dawn. Well, he could wait a few more moments until they wake up. After all he had been here since the better part of the night, thinking, brooding. There was no way he could sleep after what happened tonight.

'Just check to see that the boy is healthy and happy and I'll be on my way.' he thought unconcernedly. 'He should be safe, considering that Dumbledore placed him with his relatives. The ancient magic* would protect him as long as he is in their care.'

'Are you really not curious to see Harry? See how he looked like? He is, after all, Lily's child.. and **your** nephew.' An annoying inner voice said.

He shrugged it off, 'He doesn't know. And he don't need to know.'

'Ah, but **you** know.' The irritating voice reminded him.

'Shut up. Just go away.' he growled, vexed.

'Whatever you say, dear…'

He sighed, feeling an on-coming headache. 'I really must be going crazy if I'm hearing voices **and** talking to myself.'

Just then, the door of number four Privet drive opened, and revealed a thin, blonde-haired woman putting out the milk bottles.

'That must be Lily's sister.' He thought idly before quickly striding forward. The woman looked up, startled at his appearance. She took in his attire, the black cloak he wore and the wand in his hands. Her eyes widened in fear and revulsion as she realized what he was. She took a step back and started to slam the door, but his hand came up to stop her, effectively blocking her attempt. 

"That wasn't very nice of you, Mrs Dursley." He said in a dangerously soft voice.

"Wha- what do you want? Your kind are not welcomed here." she stammered.

"Why, I thought I'd drop by to see Harry. Surely you wouldn't mind." There was a barely veiled threat in his seemingly polite words.

She looked even more fearful now, her eyes darting about nervously. "What are you talking about? There is no Harry here."

He leaned forward, intimidating her with his closeness, his eyes narrowed. "Don't play games with me. The.. results will not be pleasant. I **know** Harry was left in your care."

"I – we- he.. Vernon sent him to an orphanage." She finally blurted out.

"What. Did. You. Say?" his tone was cold, anger palpable in every word.

She flinched at his words, not daring to repeat what she just said in fear of provoking him even more. 'Oh God, he is going to kill me! I knew we shouldn't have sent that brat away. I knew they would find out.' she thought hysterically.

"Where is he now?" His tone promised dire consequences if she did not know the answer. 

"I – I'm not sure.. some- somewhere in London?" she ventured a guess.

"Are you answering my question or asking me a question?" he sneered. 

He looked at her cowering in fear and thought in contempt, 'How could Lily ever be related to this weak, pitiful-excuse-of-a-human muggle?' His fingers fairly itched to curse her into oblivion for her stupidity. 'Leaving **Harry Potter** in an orphanage with absolutely **no **protection! Where **every** former deatheater could get their hands on him. Sweet Merlin! This is worse than I thought.'

He glared at her. "You better pray to whatever gods you believe in that Harry is safe and unharmed, or I'll be back. And this time it's no empty threat." 

His silky voice dropped to a whisper, "There are spells that can inflict such pain that you'll wish for death. *White-hot knives piercing every inch of your skin, feeling like your head is going to burst in pain. You will scream until you lose your voice, and continue screaming in silent anguish after your voice is gone. I could make you torture and kill your husband and son. You will cut them up, finger by finger, limb by limb. And watch as blood spurts out from their wounds, watch as they scream for you to stop. But you won't be able to stop yourself. After they are dead, you will look down on their mutilated bodies and realize what you have done. They are dead but you will live, slowly going insane in your own tortured mind, seeing the blood, hearing those screams over and over again, knowing that you killed them with your own hands."

His words mercilessly forced her to the dark edges of her mind, teetering on the precipice, falling over the brink into the enclosing darkness. The soft hypnotizing voice lulled her into seeing the horrifying images in her mind's eye, and her eyes glazed over, dilated in terror. Her breathing was short and shallow, her face turning pale. He smiled chillingly at her reaction, satisfied. 

The mind is a powerful thing if you know how to manipulate it. Just a few choice words and the right tone to push it a little in the right direction would give you the desired result. In this case, it was fear and horror. Of course, a little spell to drive her imagination into overrun didn't hurt either.

'And she wasn't even physically tortured.' he smirked inwardly. 

A moment later left no trace of the man once standing there as he apparated away.

----ooOOoo----

He appeared just outside of his manor's wards and the gates swung open, letting him in as the magic in them recognized their master's magic and the inherent blood that flows through his veins. 

He strode up the path and the great wooden doors flung open upon sensing his presence and current foul mood. A house-elf appeared hurriedly to take his cloak, squeaking, "Master is back! Is there anything master needs?"

"No, Mindy. Do not disturb me until dinner." He replied, preoccupied with his thoughts and moving towards his study, not acknowledging Mindy's "Yes master. As you wish master." before she disappeared with a pop.

'First: to find Harry as soon as possible.' Objective firmly in mind, he looked through various books, searching for ways to track a person. But it was not easy, especially since he had not seen said person since he was born and did not have anything belonging to him. Most of the spells or potions required something that has a connection to the missing person. 

~Several hours later…~

'Damnit!' he thought in frustration as he discarded yet another useless book on top of the rapidly growing pile of books on his desk. 'There **must** be something…' 

Looking down at the short list of spells and potions that might help, he began to tick off those that definitely would not work. "Tracking spell-no, short of Harry's personal belonging. Sensing potion-no, there's no strong emotional connection between us. Summoning charm-no, I don't even know what he looks like. Detection spell- no, not unless he uses magic. Blood potion.. hmm.. it might work… but the brewing process will take 49 days…"

He furrowed his brow in concentration, contemplating his options. 'There's really no other feasible choice. I guess Harry will have to wait while I make that potion.' With that, he got up and left the manor, apparating to Diagon Alley where he will get the needed potions ingredients at *Slug & Jiggers Apothecary.

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Reference

*ancient magic- "For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there." (Voldemort, GF)

*White-hot knives … burst in pain- rephrased from what Harry felt when he was under the cruciatus curse in GOF

*Slug & Jiggers Apothecary- name of the apothecary in Diagon Alley

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A/n: sorry it's so short, again. Seems to be having problems continuing so I thought I'd just post this first. Hope it's not too badly done. (I think it's horrible.) I know the description of the threat isn't that good so if anyone wants to improve on it for me, just email me with your version and I'll put it up if it's better. Looking for ghastly/horrifying/vivid descriptions of torture. haha. I sound sadistic. Of course, credit will be given to you for that part although I might change it a bit.

Any questions about the manor's magic and such will be explained in later chapters. I'm sorry it's so messy but it's WIP so I'm quite disorganized beyond the current chapter although I have the ideas. 

As always, please **review** with any comments/questions/ideas/suggestions/constructive criticism that you have. Feel free to correct me in your reviews if there's any grammar/spelling mistakes and I will upload the corrected version. Conversations and thoughts are supposed to be in present tense.


	6. Discoveries and a new friend

Update on the evil/bad Harry choice so far:

15 for bad Harry

7 for evil Harry

3 for good Harry

1 for depressed suicidal Harry

A/n: Original choices I gave were only 2: evil / bad Harry. But thank you for your suggestions and new choices, I will consider them. If you must know, I really had my heart set on bad (not so nice) Harry =x I guess we'll see… stay tune.. hehz

Mystic Queen, Rachel A. Prongs, Skull Bearer, visbond, k00lgirl1808, LadyMage, Lita of Jupiter, npetrenko, someonesgurl: Thank you for reviewing and for your suggestions and encouragement. =)

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Replies to reviews

Rachel A. Prongs: ooh very observant there but who says he had to have only one house elf? =p just a thought…

k00lgirl1808: well that's kind of complicated. Let's just say that Petunia and Lily had the same mom but different dad… *scandal* lol

Lita of Jupiter: I didn't say that he was.. but I didn't say he wasn't either… I like the twist too.. hehz. *I know I'm evil..* you'll just have to wait and see… =x

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thoughts - _'italics'_

parseltongue - //…//

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Chapter 5

Discoveries and a new friend

Harry sat under a tree, reading, ignoring the other children who were playing and running about, shouting at the top of their voices. He sighed irritably as another shrill shriek broke his concentration. _'Why can't they make better use of lunch break instead of doing silly things? I'll never finish the book at this rate.'_

Suddenly, a faint voice interrupted his thoughts.

__

// … stupid humanss… makes so much noisses…//

Harry quickly looked around. _'Where did that come from?'_

There was no one near him but a movement in the grass caught his eye. A small snake ringed with red, yellow and black bands was slithering towards the tree. Harry's breath caught in his throat as the snake looked up, its round pupils seemed to stare straight at him. For a second he thought the snake was going to attack him, but it only ignored him and continued to make its way to the tree. Obviously, it did not see him as a threat.

Harry started to relax, only to stare in shock as he heard the snake muttering _//oh great... another stupid human…//_

// I'm not a stupid human.// Harry said indignantly to the snake's back, or rather tail, before he could stop himself.

__

' Wait a minute. Since when do snakes talk?!' he thought belatedly.

The snake stopped still, slowly turning its head back to look at him. _// you can Speak!//_ Amazement was plain in its voice.

__

//Of course I can speak. Problem is, how come you can speak.// said Harry curiously.

__

//you don't get it, do you?// The snake sounded amused, now slithering towards him.

__

//get what?// Harry was confused. _'This is just too weird. How many people actually talk to snakes?'_

//you're Speaking my language, not the other way round.// 

//I am? How?// Harry was intrigued by this new-found ability_. _

//I don't know. It's a rare ability of wizards.//

//Wizards!? So I'm a wizard?// 

//of course! Mere muggles certainly won't be able to talk to us.//

//oh.// Harry fell silent, thinking about what this might mean.

__

//there have not been another Speaker since He disappeared.//

//who?// Harry asked, not having the slightest inkling as to who the snake was referring to.

__

//Voldemort.// 

//who's that?//

//he's the dark lord.//

//he is evil?//

//you could say that.//

//oh.// It's all too much for Harry to process at the moment. His brain is working furiously, trying to understand the what, how and whys of this whole situation. Then the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch break. 

He stood up reluctantly. _//well I got to go for lessons. Will you still be here later?//_

//sure.// The snake slithered up the tree and curled around a branch.

Assured, Harry ran inside the building, aware that lessons would be starting in… _'30 seconds!'_. He stopped outside the classroom, breathless, trying to compose himself before entering. It would not do for everyone to see him so flustered.

"Harry. Why are you standing outside? Lesson's starting." Ms Mackenzie's voice came from behind and she ushered him in. 

"Class, please turn to page 117 of your textbooks…"

-----ooOOoo-----

Harry stared impatiently at the clock as lesson neared the end, eager to see the snake again. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. He raced out of the class as soon as they were dismissed, surprising Ms Mackenzie as he was usually not so eager to go back to the orphanage.

__

//where are you?// Harry hissed softly as he neared the tree.

__

//above you.// came the reply_._

Harry looked up, and saw the snake hanging lazily from a branch. _//I cant stay long. Would you like to come back with me?//_

__

//back? To where?// The snake rises its head in curiosity.

__

//the orphanage where I live. Some children have pets so it's allowed.// said Harry, not knowing that those pets allowed are restricted to harmless and cuddly animals, like stray cats and dogs. Definitely not including potentially dangerous snakes that bite.

__

//pets? So I'll be your pet?//

//I guess... if you want to.// said Harry uncertainly, not sure how a wild snake would take to being owned as pet.

__

//is there food there?//

//uh... there are lots of mice.// 

The snake thought for a moment before replying. _//sounds agreeable. I'll go.//_

//great!// said Harry enthusiastically, happy that he'll finally have someone to talk to, a new friend.

__

//erm, do I carry you or something?// he asked, not knowing anything about handling snakes.

__

//just hold out your arm and I'll curl around you.//

Harry held out his left arm and felt the snake's cool texture as it slithered onto his arm, curling around it comfortably. It felt weird, but strangely pleasant, like wearing a thick cool bracelet. _//Luckily you're small//_ hissed Harry as he stroked its head gently.

__

//I'm not small! I just haven't grown to my full length yet.//

Harry hid a smile at its vehement protest. _//ok then. Do you have a name?//_

//name? Why do I need a name?//

//so I can call you. Surely I cant keep calling you 'it' or 'snake'//

//it! I'll have you know that I'm a she!// If it were possible for a snake to sound outraged, this would be it.

__

//sorry. So.. can I name you?//

//sss… //

//how about Sandy?//

//Sandy…// she said slowly, sounding out the name. Apparently finding it satisfactory, she nodded and hissed _// I like it.//_

Harry smiled. _//Sandy it is then.//_

//can we go now master?//

//you can call me Harry.//

//Harry… master…// Sandy's forked tongue snaked out to lick him affectionately.

Harry was startled but it warmed his heart._ 'Perhaps I'll finally have a friend that will not betray me.'_

A thought suddenly occurred to him._ //Sandy, are you poisonous?//_

//yess... but don't worry, I won't bite you.//

//you can't bite the other children too. Otherwise they might take you away.// Harry warned.

__

//promise I won't bite them… unless they threaten you…//

//thank you.// said Harry softly, touched by her loyalty and protectiveness of him. 

He was so engrossed in talking to Sandy that he did not realize they had already reached the orphanage entrance. And that all the children were staring wide-eyed at the hissing, brightly colored snake curled around his arm.

A piercing scream caused Harry to look up immediately. He was met with a trembling finger pointed at Sandy and numerous frightened looks. "What? Never seen a snake before?" He said coldly, daring the other children to object to his new pet.

"But- but it- it's a snake." Alex stammered, stating the obvious, as if it explains everything.

Harry's eyes raked the blonde-haired boy with a hard look, then smiled slyly, saying sweetly," Correction: it's a highly poisonous coral snake."

The other children shrank back even further at his revelation.

"Thus, I advise you not to annoy us, otherwise you might find yourself at the receiving end of her bite." Harry added causally before making his way back to his room. 

__

//they are scared of me…// Sandy hissed.

__

//yar but don't worry about them… no one can take you away.//

//I shall bite them if they do.//

//yes, that's a good idea…// Harry stroked down her length absently, thinking about the problems he might have with the added presence of Sandy. 

__

'Wonders if anyone will tell Keleman…' He sighed. _'It's only a matter of time before he finds out. Never mind, we'll deal with it when it comes.'_

He did not have to wait long. A loud hammering on the door broke his reverie. 

"Open the door right now!" Keleman shouted.

__

'It's not even locked.' Harry rolled his eyes and got off the bed. Opening the door, he smiled politely and asked," Is anything wrong, sir?"

"What's wrong? You dare ask me what's wrong when you were the one who bought a poisonous snake back?!" Keleman ranted.

"Oh. Do you mean Sandy?" He asked innocently, holding his left hand out for Keleman to see.

"Argh! Get that snake away. I want it gone by dinner time or you will get it." Keleman unconsciously stepped back from him. Even his threat sounded weak.

__

'So, he's afraid of snakes eh…' Harry thought smugly.

"No, she's staying with me."

"You insolent boy, see if I don't teach you a lesson." Keleman made a move towards him but stopped as Sandy hissed fiercely at him, bearing her teeth threateningly. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Coral snakes have powerful neurotoxic venom that attacks the nervous system and cause death as a result of heart failure or suffocation." said Harry serenely.

"You- you're threatening me?" Keleman spluttered.

"Just a little reminder." Harry smiled pleasantly, a fake smile never reached his eyes. 

Keleman stared at him furiously, torn between wanting to beat him up and his fear of the snake. He looked like he was going to burst in anger soon. "Fine." He finally gritted out. "You watch out. I'll get you. Eventually." Then he stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut.

__

'Score 1 for me!' thought Harry victoriously. _'oooh that look on his face. I thought I'd never see the day when he was afraid of me.'_

For the first time in months, he felt like laughing out loud and jumping around gleefully. That he did not do so was because of caution. He did not want to push Keleman too far by gloating too blatantly.

__

//you are happy// Sandy stated.

__

//yes, very, very happy.//

//why?// asked Sandy curiously.

__

//because I won, and you're staying with me. Thank you for helping me.//

//what did I do?// Sandy was clueless.

__

//he's scared of you.// 

//oh. I am glad I could help.//

//so am I, so am I…// 

However Harry knew he could not afford to be complacent, as Keleman would be watching him closely for any opportunity to strike. And the punishment would be worse than the last time. _'I'd better enjoy having the upper hand while I can. Since I'm going to be punished anyway, might as well milk this advantage for all it's worth.'_

//Don't you just love power, Sandy?//

//yes… but don't get corrupted by it.//

//I won't, but the feeling is exhilarating.// 

Silence. 

Then_, // tell me more about wizards, Sandy.//_

======================================

A/n: Sadly, school just started and I will be very busy with school work, exams, training for competition and stuff so don't expect me to update too quickly. However, I will try to update during weekends. Hopefully there will be a new chapter once a week or once every 2 weeks, but no promises. (I really should be doing homework you know.. sighz..)

Review! Review! with any comments/questions/ideas/suggestions/constructive criticism that you have.


	7. Letters and Dreams

A/n: wonders what the hell I'm doing here when I'm supposed to finish my homework.. cant stand myself sometimes, no self discipline. *sigh* ok enough of my mutterings, will reply to reviews next chapter, I'm too tired to write anymore. Just don't kill me cuz this chapter is badly done. Feel free to tell me if it's really unacceptable and I'll rewrite it.

Parseltongue - //…//

Dream - _italics_

Chapter 6

Letters and Dreams

"Letter for Harry Potter," the postman called out, standing at the gate of the orphanage in the late afternoon.

Harry looked up from his books and walked towards the postman curiously. "Yes?" he asked.

"You're Harry Potter?" the postman asked for confirmation and Harry nodded in the affirmative. "Well, someone sent you a parcel and a letter. Please sign here."

Harry scribbled his name on a piece of paper and took the items from the postman. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Have a nice day." The postman replied cheerfully and left.

Harry was staring at the letter and parcel, wondering who sent it. Nobody ever sent him anything, and none of the orphans ever gets mail. He turned over the envelope and opened it carefully, thinking that something was awfully familiar about the handwriting at the front. 

Dear Harry,

how are you, bro? I've missed you. Sorry I took so long to write but dad got a new job in London and we have to move over there, thus it took us a few weeks to settle down and get use to everything. It's good here, they treat me well, though I wish you were here too. 

Does Keleman still beat you up? Try to stay out of his way okay? I don't want you to get hurt again. And tell Derrick if he and his bunch of bullies ever hurt you, I will personally come back to pummel him. 

The parcel is a birthday present for you (yes, I didn't forget). Hope you like it. Take care and write back soon. 

Love you,

Dan

'Dan,' Harry thought in shock, his fingers trembling and tears threatened to fall. A wave of love enveloped him as he reread the letter again. For the first time since Dan left, Harry felt happy and loved, protected even though Dan is not physically there. He smiled slightly at Dan's usual protectiveness of him, evident even in a letter he wrote. 

Clutching the letter and parcel tightly, he hurried to his room where he could open his present in private and write a reply to Dan, away from the prying eyes of the other orphans. Harry opened the parcel carefully and his eyes sparkled in childish delight as he saw a black dog soft toy lying among the nest of coloured paper. He hugged it to his chest, feeling the soft fur beneath his hands. Looking at his new toy, he felt a tug in the back of his mind, there was something familiar about the image of a black dog… 

But he can't quite recall it in the distant memory of his childhood, just the feeling that it was something important. Unbidden, a name came to him. "Padfoot," he whispered to the black dog, though he had no idea what it meant. 

//Master, there are more things inside.// Sandy hissed, awake from her sleep and having slithered into the box to explore.

Distracted, Harry put Padfoot down and turned his attention to her. //let me see.// 

He picked up a book titled "The Little Prince" and found some chocolates hidden by the shreds of coloured paper. He grinned to himself, trust Dan to know what he likes. His happiness dimmed as he thought of Dan, the times they spent together, his laughter, his presence, his playful teasing… how he missed him.

He took out a paper and pen, biting his bottom lip as he thought of what to write.

Dear Dan, 

I am well. I've really missed you. I thought you'd forgotten about me when you did not write. I wish you were here too, or that I could be with you. Keleman has stopped bothering me and I think Derrick and his gang have learnt their lesson after being chased by the dogs in the warehouse.

I love the presents, thank you. Can you come back sometimes to see me? 

Love you too, 

Harry 

Harry folded the letter and put it into an envelope, but did not post it straightaway as he had no stamps. 'Maybe I could get some from Ms Mackenzie tomorrow,' he thought.

----ooOOoo---

After class Harry stayed back to talk to Ms Mackenzie. 

"Ms Mackenzie?" He asked hesitantly.

She looked up from her work, "Yes, Harry?"

"I - can I have a stamp please? I need to post a letter."

"Sure, what do you need it for?" She asked while rummaging in her drawer for some stamps.

"Erm, it's for a colouring competition. I need to submit it by post." Harry flushed a bit at the lie, guilty for lying to her when she has been so nice.

Ms Mackenzie mistook his flush for embarrassment. "Here you go. Good luck for the competition." 

"Thank you Ms Mackenzie. Have a nice day." Harry smiled brilliantly and took the stamps, walking out of the room with a spring in his steps.

Ms Mackenzie stared after him, amazed at the transformation a smile can do. 'Looks like this competition must be really important to him to make him so happy. It's a nice change from his usual guarded expression.' she thought.

//why did you lie to her?// Sandy asked curiously.

//well… I was afraid she wouldn't give me the stamps.// Harry fidgeted uneasily as his conscience made its presence known.

//that's not nice.// Sandy voiced his thoughts unknowingly.

Harry groaned, why does his conscience and Sandy sing the same tune. //it didn't hurt anyone.//

Sandy fell silent upon hearing his sharp tone. 

//sorry I didn't mean to snap.// Harry said after a moment's silence.

//it's ok.// Sandy's forked tongue snaked out to lick his arm, a sign that he was forgiven.

----ooOOoo----

__

"Hello Jamsie, Lily. And how's my favourite godson?" A tall man with black hair and blue eyes walked through the door, a grin on his face. 

The godson in question gurgled in response and stretch out his small hands, bright green eyes looking up at the man. "Oh look! He likes me already." He tickled the baby, causing him to squeal.

"Sirius! Stop it! Harry's going to have nightmares." A woman with long copper tresses scolded while trying to get the baby away from him.

"Aww Lily don't spoil the fun." Sirius gave her his best adorable puppy-dog look.

"Nah uh, doesn't work on me." Lily said sternly.

The man disappeared and in its place was a huge black dog, wagging its tail. The dog pounced on Lily and licked her face, slobbering all over. 

"Eww… Sirius!" Lily yelled.

"Padfoot, down boy, down." James ordered, trying to keep a straight face. The black dog got off and turned towards James. "And don't even think about it," warned James as he saw the mischievous look in the blue eyes.

"This house is going to turn into a zoo soon," Lily muttered, but a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

The image blurred and the swirl of colours merge into another scene.

__

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off ---"

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily screamed and used her body to shield the baby from the man who was advancing upon both of them.

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…" A furious commanding voice said. The man's eyes glowed red as he raised a wooden stick threateningly.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead --" Lily pleaded with the man, desperate to protect her child.

"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"

"Avada Kedavra!" 

A flash of green light suddenly sped towards the woman, the child, towards Harry… 

Bright. It was so bright, consuming his whole vision. Nothing but green.

Screaming. Terrified screams, loud, so loud. Then… 

Silence. Nothing. Black. It was all black.

Falling, into darkness, falling… 

Harry suddenly jerked upright, sweat beading his brow and breathing heavily. 

Green.

And he remembered.


	8. Stranger

Update on the evil/bad Harry choice so far:

19 for bad Harry

10 for evil Harry

4 for good Harry

1 for depressed suicidal Harry

A/n: good/bad/evil is subjective, relative to each person's definitions of good/bad/evil. So do not be too disappointed if the way I portray it is different from how you think it should be done. It may be mixed to strike a balance. Perhaps. Not really accepting votes anymore, but please review all the same!

Thanks for reviewing, encouraging or inspiring me in any way: **angelhitomi, tomzgurl77, BookMaster300, noraseyes, Rebecca Cecilie, CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur, Lady Lightning, PheonixMan, npetrenko, frizzy, Me, Lunar Shadowsong, Iniysa, Hell's Reaper, someonesgurl, litine**

Also thanks to **Lexi** for her suggestions on Harry's present in the previous chapter.

Replies to reviews

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Rachel A. Prongs perhaps.. chapter 6 was partly because of your suggestion. I'm not sure about Draco though, will decide later.

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WolfMoon Luc is not vampire or werewolf or anything like that, just a wizard. =) It will be hard for Harry to trust, rare but not impossible, and seldom completely.

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Lily O. erm ok, relax dear. No one is completely good or evil you know. Everyone has a dark side and Harry is not perfect.

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Jarvey haha yes, love poetry ;) there will be 'dark' times but I should think that he generally is 'good' though it may not seem so. Oh dear sounds like I'm contradicting myself…

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Lady Phoenix Gryffindor you'll find out.. haha.. ok shouldn't be so evil. Well he just remembered who is sirius/ padfoot (his godfather) plus some memories of his parents and how they died, that's all. =)

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Katten thank you. Well, read and find out ;)

Chapter 7

The dark-haired man strode down the hallway quickly, black robes billowing behind him. He made his way down to the dungeons, where his private workroom was, to check on the almost complete potion. The potion was simmering, and he checked the timer, preparing to add the last ingredient when the potion turned blue. The timer sounded and as if on cue, the potion swirled and slowly changed to blue. He carefully added two Jobberknoll feathers and stirred it anti-clockwise twelve times, watching as the potion gradually cleared to a colourless solution.

'Finally,' he thought, satisfied at the end product. He then made a small cut on his finger and let a few drops of blood drip into the potion. The blood did not mix with the potion, its red only concentrated in the middle. 

"Manifesto meton," the man muttered while using his wand to draw a pentagram in the air above the potion. The red color of the drops of blood slowly spread, vein-like lines branching out to form words.

__

Harry Potter

Then the words merged and changed.

__

Marden Orphanage, Hampshire 

"Deletrius." 

----ooOOoo----

The children stared in unveiled curiosity at the strange man walking into the orphanage. He wore a long, black dress-like coat and black pants, and the expression his face would have sent even the bravest orphans running. The children parted like the Red Sea before him in his rapid advancement.

He suddenly stopped and turned to the nearest child. "Where is your caretaker?" he demanded.

The unfortunate girl of his attentions took one look at his scowling face and angry tone, and promptly burst into tears. He sighed irritably, surely he's not _that_ scary?

In an attempt to placate the sobbing girl, he conjured a rose and handed it to her. "Hush don't cry," he said in a softer voice. "I'm just looking for the caretaker of this orphanage. Can you tell me where he is?"

The sniffling girl gave him a trembling smile and took the rose shyly. "He's -hic- in the office down the hallway," she said timidly, looking at him hesitantly, deciding that he's not so scary after all.

"Thank you," He patted her head absently and continued down the hallway. Nearing the office, he heard shouts and screaming.

"You can't take away my things!" a furious yell was heard, high and childish.

"You dare to give me orders on what to do?" the voice was deeper, a quiet anger in the reply.

"I- I'll get Sandy here!" the child sounded desperate.

A pause, then sneering. "Your precious snake is not here to help you."

He walked in without bothering to knock, interrupting the argument as the occupants of the room turned towards the door to stare at him. 

"I'm looking for a child by the name of Harry Potter." He said curtly, abandoning all pleasantries. His gaze flicked to the predatory stance of the man who was moving towards the child before he had interrupted them. And then to the child, taking in his messy black hair, some purple bruises on his arm, and the ragged clothes that hung on his small frame.

Keleman looked at the strangely dressed man, and started to bustle in anger. "Now look here, you have no right to just waltz in without so much as a by your leave and make demands. Can't you see I'm busy disciplining one of the boys?"

That was obviously the wrong thing to say to the stranger. His lips tightened in anger and he strode to Keleman, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. "I have seen the results of your 'discipline'," he snarled as he glance at the wide-eyed boy in the corner. "And they border on abuse. Now tell me where is Potter or I'll end your miserable life and make your death very unpleasant." At this, he smiled in a distinctly feral manner that left no doubt in Keleman's mind that he would have no qualms about killing him if need be.

Beads of sweat start to form on Keleman's forehead and now he could see that the stranger was different from the usual clients who wanted to adopt. It was there in his dark and forbidding manner, his cold expressionless face, and commanding voice. It bespoke a man who was used to being feared and obeyed, intimidating others to get what he want. He had misjudged the stranger badly.

"There- there's no Potter here," Keleman stuttered.

"Do not lie to me. I know he's here."

"The-the orphans… they have no- no surnames."

The stranger glared at him like he was some filthy pest he longed to squash beneath his boots. "I don't suppose there is a Harry here then?"

"There's only one," Keleman nodded nervously at the boy in the corner, who was currently trying to sneak out of the room unnoticed.

"Stop right there." The stranger said sharply.

Harry winced and stood still. He had enjoyed watching Keleman squirm under the stranger's intimidation, until the conversation involved him. From what he had observed, the man seemed even more dangerous than Keleman, and it would not do to anger him unduly. 

The stranger released his grip on Keleman's shirt and walked towards Harry. Harry felt hands on his shoulders that slowly turned him around to face the man. His face became a shade paler, and he lifted Harry's hair to reveal a lightning blot scar on his forehead. Harry bit his lips as the man's grip on him tightened painfully.

"Look out!" Harry cried as Keleman tried to attack the stranger from behind with a metal pole.

The stranger quickly spun around and drew out a thin wooden stick from the folds of his clothes, muttering something indiscernible. Red light shot out from the end of the stick and hit Keleman, causing him to collapse on the floor immediately.

Harry stared at the man in shock and breathed, "You're a wizard." 

The man looked at him inscrutably for a moment, then said, "Yes. And I'm taking you away. Pack your things, we're leaving."

Harry had so many questions but the look on the man's face prevented him from saying anything. He did not know the whys and hows, but something inside him told him to trust the stranger. So he went to his room to pack his few possessions, the letter from Dan, his soft toy Padfoot, a few books that the older children discarded plus the new one that Dan had given him. Lastly, he scoped Sandy up from the bed, where she was basking in the light streaming through the windows, and asked her to curl around his arm.

//Where are we going, master?//

//Away from here.//

//We are running away?//

//No. A wizard is taking me away.//

//Who?//

A pause.

//I don't know.// said Harry finally, softly.

They had reached Keleman's office, where the stranger was sitting on the couch, idly twirling his wand as he watched Keleman thrashed about on the floor, screaming silently. Keleman stilled as soon as the man saw Harry standing at the door. 

//Master? Are you sure about going with him?// Sandy hissed warily as she eyed the dark man approaching them.

//I - yes.// Harry still trusted his instinct, although it seemed irrational to do so when there was no basis for this trust.

The man held out a glass ball to Harry, rainbow colors swirling in it. "Touch it. It will bring you to the manor." 

Harry hesitantly stretched out his hand and touched a finger to the globe. Immediately he felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet had left the ground and his finger was stuck to the globe, pulling him onwards in a howl of wind and swirling colors. He stumbled as his feet slammed into the ground, but a pair of hands caught him around the arms, steadying him. 

Harry looked into the obsidian black eyes of the stranger and gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

He stared at Harry for a long time before nodding curtly in acknowledgement of his thanks. Sandy raised her head and hissed at the stranger, and he looked to the source in surprise.

"Your pet?" he arched an eyebrow and asked amusedly.

"My friend." Harry said softly, stroking Sandy's back, coaxing her to back down.

He looked at the snake closely, then back at Harry. "You do know that she's poisonous?"

"She won't bite unless someone harms me." The message was clear as Harry looked straight at him. It was a warning, that he was not totally defenseless despite being a child in the presence of a possibly dangerous man.

The man's lips quirked upwards. "Come, I'll show you your room."

It was then that Harry noticed his surroundings. The large room had crystal chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling, ornaments and strange objects decorating the sides, framed portraits hanging on the walls- wait, are the pictures moving? Harry rubbed his eyes but-

__

The pictures are moving! he thought incredulously. Sandy did not mention that.

Harry realized that the man was already half way up the stairs and hurried to catch up with him. They went through carpeted corridors, turning at several corners until the man finally stopped at a wooden door, intricate designs beautifully carved on it. The door opened wide to reveal a large opulent room decorated in green and silver. A big bed was situated on the right, complete with polished oak bedside tables and lamps. There was a comfy looking couch and armchairs on the left, arranged around a fireplace. To the other end, another opened door leads to the bathroom.

"My room?" Harry was overwhelmed by the luxuries provided.

"All yours." 

"Thank you." His green eyes glittered brightly.

"Rest now, the house elves will call you for dinner. Do not wander off by yourself. There are dangerous creatures around." The stranger turned to go.

"Wait! I- why?" Harry asked softly, the final one word encompassing all his questions. 

__

Why did you bring me here? Why are you so nice? Why won't you explain? Why…

"We will talk later."

"How do I address you then?" Harry blurted out before the stranger could leave.

There was a long silence as the man stilled, and Harry thought he was not going to answer. He barely caught the strangled reply.

"You can call me Uncle."

With that, the stranger swept out of the room, robes swirling around him, leaving Harry to stare after him in stunned silence.

A/n: sorry this took so long. Hope it's not too irritating that I kept using 'the stranger' and 'the man' to describe 'Luc'. Because he did not explain things to Harry, Harry did not know who he is or even his name, thus always thinking of him as 'the stranger' or 'the man'. Mostly from Harry's POV, you will realize that I keep descriptions of Luc's feelings / perspective here to a minimum. Think I will write a bit on Luc's POV next chapter. 

manifesto -are [to show clearly , reveal].

meton. [persons related, kindred, family]


	9. Contemplation and explanations

Update on the evil/bad Harry choice so far:

28 for bad Harry

11 for evil Harry

6 for good Harry

1 for depressed suicidal Harry

It's officially bad Harry. Now we'll just have to see if my sense of bad is your sense of bad. hehz. Again, don't be too disappointed if the way I portray it is different from how you think it should be. 

Thanks to all reviewers: **Quill, potter-man, Lady Lightning, ER, Rachel A. Prongs, Atari420, litine, Slim, klanek2004, kat-tak, SugarGirl, Coward in the Shadows, npetrenko, Porcelain Princess, no name, The Fierce Deity, God of War**

Replies to reviews

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Moonlight I love your stories! please update unicorn child soon, you must… *cant wait* I'm hoping that Dan can visit or something but haven't worked it out yet. Harry is 6 years (and 5 months) old and yes, he did send the letter to Dan.

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Sarah no promises but I will try.

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Nicky all will be revealed… soon. ;)

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Fergiaj thank you. =) The name means 'person of light' if that's what you're asking.

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Satoshi very interesting take, my sentiments exactly. =)

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ADJ erm I'm afraid you won't find this so interesting after you've read this chapter =x I debated between snape and lucius at first. I know I'm not good at descriptive writing, the only time I ever wrote one, I got 24/40 I think. Gah. I'll try, but I'm not good at visualizing and describing things. 

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ReflectionsOfReality of course I won't ignore you, I love long reviews. =) Dark harry is cool, I kind of class it as 'bad', perhaps not the most… appropriate but well. *shrugs* About who is Luc, I've dropped hints but it's pretty ambiguous so no worries about seeming dense =)

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Lita of Jupiter He may not be an OC… and yes Harry will be thrilled at the manor's extensive library. =) 

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blubb-blubb I think you read my mind.. partially anyway… hehz

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Old Fawkes Thanks, I'll try.

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Zaln I don't think Harry would be your sense of 'bad', will try to keep the clichés in mind when writing.

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Kashke bingo! You hit the nail on the head. =)

Chapter 8

Contemplation and explanations

I walked out of the room, my feet automatically taking me down the corridors to my study. The fireplace blazed to light as I entered and crossed the room to pour a glass of red wine before settling down in a black leather armchair in front of the fire. I stared unseeingly at the flames, but the child's face, those green eyes, they wouldn't leave me be. I closed my eyes hoping to shut those images out, but more painful ones flitted pass my mind's eye. 

I didn't want to remember. 

Not Lily, not those happy times, not her death. 

Never her death. 

It was too painful. 

I lifted the wineglass to my lips, needing it to calm my mind, dull my senses. But the swirling red liquid… _blood… no._ Blood tastes and smells metallic, not bittersweet. Blood is thicker, not clear. Blood is… _on your hands. _

Merlin, why won't the ghosts leave me alone? Must they always haunt me, even in daylight? Is there no rest for the weary?

I sighed tiredly and berated myself. This is no time for self-pity. Not when Lily's child is upstairs and awaiting explanations. I suppose I should think of what to say, where to begin. 

If only those muggles hadn't sent him to the orphanage. 

Orphanage. My expression darkened. How dare that wretched muggle filth abuse the child. Cruciatus is too good for him. Not that he would remember. Maybe I shouldn't have memory charmed him. But I can't risk the ministry finding out. I didn't escape Azkaban just to be thrown in there for one miserly Unforgivable. 

The boy... he looks like James, except for those eyes that were so much like Lily's, yet not the same. His was guarded, with dark shadows that made his emotions harder to read. Lily's was always bright and sparkling, not hiding her thoughts, her feelings. 

The boy is more Slytherin than he would have thought, though he supposed he would have to be sly and cunning to survive the orphanage. He smiled slightly as he remembered the boy's half-veiled warning while he was stroking the snake. It was a flimsy protection at best, there were other more subtle ways to kill or harm if he so wanted, such as potions and poisons. But he had to give the boy credit for trying.

It was a puzzle, and a surprise, that the boy known that he was a wizard. Either he was extremely perceptive or he already had the information beforehand. And the snake… quite an unusual 'friend' he keeps… 

[Meanwhile] 

__

Uncle? I have relatives? But I- he- what- 

"Aah!" Harry squeaked in surprise as a strange creature with large bat-like ears and enormous eyes appeared out of thin air in front of him, interrupting his incoherent thoughts. He quickly backed away only to trip and land on the grey carpeted floor on his bottom.

The creature looked horrified and rushed forward, squeaking, "Mindy is sorry to startle young master, sir. Is young master all right?

Harry stared up at the creature from his position on the floor. _Is this one of the dangerous creatures that the strange- no- his uncle was talking about?_

//no, silly. That is a house-elf.// Sandy hissed amusedly, somehow answering his unspoken question.

__

Well ok, whatever that means. Harry got up and dusted himself. "Yes, I'm fine. Err.." Casting around for something to say, he finally settled on "I'm Harry. Pleased to meet you."

The creature looked relieved, then blinked.

__

Did I say something wrong? Harry wondered, but turned to glare at Sandy as she (there was no other way to describe the sort-of hissing he heard) laughed.

Her laugh turned into a discreet cough. //house-elves are not usually treated as an equal. She is just… in shock.//

__

Oh. 

The creature recovered from her shock and bowed. "Master would like young master Harry to refresh himself before eating dinner, sir."

"You mean bathe?"

"Yes, sir."

"Oh ok, thank you." Harry was disconcerted, not used to being treated so… respectfully.

The creature bowed again; then disappeared with a pop.

__

Wish I knew how she did it.

He stripped off his clothes and stepped into the bathroom, the cream colored marble tiles cool beneath his feet. After a quick shower and drying himself, he padded back to the room in a bathrobe that he had found hanging on the door. But his clothes were not there.

//Sandy?// Harry asked tentatively.

//yesss?// Sandy uncurled lazily.

//Did you see my clothes?//

//They disappeared. The house-elf probably took them.// 

//What? What am I supposed to wear?// Harry was horrified.

// I think there's a set of clothes on your bed.//

Sure enough, there was a set of dark blue long pants and a matching T-shirt. The material was soft and smooth, not at all like the rough and scratchy texture of his old clothes. Harry slipped the bathrobe off and started dressing. He was about to finish dressing by pulling the shirt over his head when a soft hiss of in-drawn breath from the door caught his attention. He turned and saw the strange- _no, his uncle _he corrected himself absently- staring at him. 

"You should take care of your back, dear. They are full of scars." A motherly voice said from behind. 

__

Who-? The scars! He saw- Harry frantically pulled on the shirt, covering his back, hiding the scars from view, but it was too late. He watched apprehensively as his uncle strode forward, something akin to bridled fury in his eyes.

Harry cursed himself silently. He should have remembered to close the door before exposing his bare back. Should have remembered those scars that were left because of Keleman's whipping. Covering his unease, he smiled brightly and said, "Good evening. Is it dinner time already?"

The taller man ignored his question, instead asking, "Who did this to you?"

__

Bugger. "No one." Harry replied quickly. A bit too quickly.

His uncle narrowed his eyes, clearly not believing him.

"I got scratched badly by barb wires when I was crawling through a small hole. It was a dare." Harry improvised, and put on his best innocent look.

The man just looked at him wordlessly. 

__

Can he stop doing that? Harry resisted the urge fidget under that unnerving stare. It's like he can see right through him.

"Let me take a look at them."

"NO!"

His uncle raised an eyebrow at his vehement response, his obsidian eyes glittering with… victory?

"I- I mean… those are old wounds, nothing you can do about them. I don't want to bother you." Harry protested weakly.

"Oh I assure you it's no bother at all. Besides, I might be able to remove them."

"Really?" Harry was curious to see what magic could do, although he was wary of that look on his uncle's face.

"But first I need to examine them." 

It was not a choice, and Harry knew an order when he heard one. He removed his shirt slowly, reluctantly. And flinched as cool hands touched him, lightly tracing the scars.

"They seemed fairly recent, about three months old. If you want I can remove the scars." 

"Yes please."

"But I need to know how they come about."

Harry could feel the intense gaze on him, willing him to tell the truth, but he only repeated, "I got scratched by barb wires."

A deep sigh. "Harry, barb wires scratches should be of the same direction, unlike the criss-crossing scars on your back. Those looked like you were whipped."

Harry tensed, and said nothing. Neither denying nor admitting, but it was answer enough for one experienced in interpreting body language and silences.

I stared at the stiff back of the boy in front of me, seeming so vulnerable, so distrustful. Well, he would talk when he is ready. But even now I know who did it. _And he would pay. _"You can trust me. I would not hurt you." I said gently, and then briskly muttered, "Deliquesco cicatrix."

A soft blue light spread over the scarred back, slowly mending the uneven lines of skin, smoothing out the scars so that they leave no trace. Harry's back was unblemished when the healing was complete and the blue glow slowly faded away. 

"Thank you." It was so soft that I almost missed it.

I nodded curtly and said, "You must be hungry. I came to fetch you for dinner."

Harry put on his shirt and looked to me questioningly. I had initially ordered to dine in the dining hall but now it seems too far away, too big for only two. "But it's late. I'll have food sent up. Mindy?"

The house-elf appeared immediately. "Yes, master?"

"We'll eat here."

"Yes, sir." She vanished with a slight 'pop' and plates of food appeared on a small table that were not there before, together with 2 chairs.

I watched the boy's amazed reaction with a touch of amusement, and made my way to the table. "Are you going to stand there and stare or sit down and eat?" I asked archly.

He flushed and sat down. Dinner was a silent affair, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I'm not looking forward to after dinner and of course it came altogether too soon. 

Having finished eating, Harry sat back in his chair and looked to his uncle expectantly. It became a sort-of staring contest that broke when he finally spoke, "I suppose you will want to know what's going on." 

Harry nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

He steeled himself, keeping his expression blank, his voice impersonal. "Your name is Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. Your parents died when you were 15 months old, killed on the Halloween of 1981 by a dark wizard called Lord Voldemort. He tried to killed you but the curse rebounded on him instead, leaving you the sole survivor of the attack with a scar on your forehead, as he was temporarily vanquished by his own curse. The wizarding world hailed you as the Boy-Who-Lived, being the only known person who survived the Killing curse."

"Avada Kedavra." Harry whispered to himself. 

He looked up, surprised at the words that slipped out. 

"It was green," Harry said simply as his uncle stared at him. "And his eyes were red."

__

The boy remembered. "Yes," he said evenly. "What else do you know?" he asked in spite of himself.

Harry had a distant look in his eyes, like seeing something that wasn't there. "I know Father screamed for Mother to take me and run. I know she protected me when the man asked her to stand aside. I know-" his voice trembled, "she died taking the curse that was meant for me."

He closed his eyes briefly, getting his feelings under control, affected by Harry's simple yet heartbreaking rendition of what happened. "She loved you more than anything in the world," was his only consolation to the boy.

Harry raised his head, eyes glazed. "I know." 

He let the boy have a moment of quiet before continuing, "After the attack, Albus Dumbledore placed you with your mother's muggle sister. You are protected by ancient magic as long as you are in their care. But they did not want to take you in, instead sending you to the orphanage. Apparently no one knew, and I only found out a few months ago."

"Why did you bring me here?" _When you could have just left me there._

"I promised Lily." He paused. "Besides, the orphanage is not safe for you. The Dark Lord had many followers called Death Eaters. They might harm you to avenge their master."

Harry thought for some time. "Why wasn't I under your care instead of the muggles in the first place?"

"The circumstances would not allow it," he said tightly.

"Wh-" Harry was cut off by a terse "Don't ask." Looking at the forbidding expression on his face, Harry fell silent. 

"It's late, you should sleep soon. I'll meet you for breakfast tomorrow and give you a tour of the manor, as well as rules you should follow while staying here," he said stiffly.

"I-" Harry started.

"Yes?" he asked impatiently, a scowl on his face.

"I still don't know your name…" Harry trailed off, glancing at him nervously.

He glared and muttered something about annoying questions and idiotic imbeciles who forgot to introduce themselves before replying coolly and stalking off.

"Severus Lucian Snape."

__

A/n: Well now you know who's Harry's uncle. *grins* I don't think it's that much of a surprise and you probably think I was just going round the bush and keeping everyone in suspense for fun. That was the idea except that I didn't expect it to drag out so much that it's not a suspense anymore, I know it kind of wears off after a while. That's what I don't like about the writing, I can't do suspense right. sighz… Will combining the chapters so that the suspense is not too drawn out make it better? 

In light of this revelation, I think that Luc's 1st person POV was very OOC and seems horrible. *****cringes* Don't think I'm going to try to write 1st person POV again. Should I change it to third person narrative or something? I welcome any suggestions to improve the story.

deliquesco -liquescere -licui [to melt , dissolve; to vanish, disappear].

cicatrix -icis f. [a scar]; on plants , [a mark of incision]


	10. chapter 9

Thanks to all reviewers

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Nightshade Beam, myrhfire, Energeezer, lois, Katykat1010, Elessar, azntgr01, anonymus, Rei, Kylie, Prongs4, lollipozz, Mella deRanged, Guardian angel of wolves, athenakitty, crazyfanfictionfanatic, Heilo the Anthro-schyzo-crow, LilPup, coolpadfoot, The Dark Vella, Lady Lightning, Porcelain Princess, darren, Anora, kaylyn, Solo

iCy CaNdY, Rachel A. Prongs I combined prologue with chapter 1, that's why there's no 'chapter 10'.

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Lady Cinnibar I know. *sighs* the writing just didn't work out. 

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jesusfreak7777777 Dan might come back, but I haven't worked it out so we'll see.

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Nabiki He'll more likely blame the Dursleys and Keleman instead of Dumbledore.

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SerenityBliss I guess it means… dark/ shades of grey.

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Chapter 9

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"My rooms are down the corridor," said Snape, walking so fast that Harry struggled to keep up. They stopped before a set of doors but did not enter. Snape turned to look at him sternly. "You are not to enter without my permission, especially when I'm not around."

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

This seemed to be going on forever since after breakfast, passing numerous doors that somehow looks no different, yet leading to rooms of various uses. So far they had been to the dining room, kitchens, dungeons, potions workroom, the study, and the latest being his uncle's private rooms. The last four of which he was forbidden to enter without his uncle or his permission. 

"Good. Now, the library is on the third level, same as the South Tower." Harry followed him up, and couldn't help gasping as they stepped past another large wooden door into the library. It had the highest ceiling, tapering towards an apex two-thirds from the floor. The room was rounded; shelves of books molded to the original perimeter of the wall, giving an impression of a hollow cylinder of books. Rays of morning sunlight filtered in through intermittent breaks of colored glass panes between the shelves, casting shades of blue, red and green around the room. Lifting his head, Harry could see through the glass apex to the clear blue sky outside. He brought his gaze, with effort, down from the view overhead to the ground floor. Several comfortable chairs and a large table filled the space. Vaguely, he felt the weight of his uncle's amused gaze on him as he stood awestruck at the pure beauty of the library. 

"I gather you like it?" 

"Like it? This is amazing! I've never seen a library like this," said Harry enthusiastically. 

A small smile tugged at the man's lips. "Well, you can come here as often as you like. But do not take the books out of the room. I don't want them to go missing." He strode to the center of the room where a large book lay open, floating in midair. "This book contains the titles of all the books here, including what subject it is related to, level of expertise, the author, year of publishing and so on. You can search by these categories. Just tap your wand…"

Harry watched in fascination as his uncle tapped at 'subject', then 'potions' out of those which appeared. "You can narrow down your search to say, level of expertise." 

Tap. 

"Basic." 

Another tap. 

"And finally, 'list' to get the books that you're looking for. Tap on the title to get more information on the book like summary and where to find it." 

Harry nodded but raised a question. "I don't have a wand."

Snape paused. "I'll let you use your mother's wand for the time being. But I don't want you to try spells without supervision."

"Yes, sir. Erm, how do I get the books? Some of the shelves are so high."

"There are magic carpets that you can use to fly up to get the books," said Snape, indicating to two or three rolled up carpets leaning against a table.

Harry's eyes widened in childish delight. "It can fly?"

"Yes. Wizards usually use broomsticks to fly, though carpets can also be enchanted to do the same."

"Wow." 

The dreamy look on the boy's face tugged at his heartstrings; dimly he heard himself saying, "If you like flying so much, you might want to learn Quidditch. It's a sport played on broomsticks."

"You'll teach me?"

Snape hesitated, and finally said, albeit grudgingly, "If you want."

"Really? Thank you!" Harry smiled brilliantly up at him.

Staring into the bright green eyes, he found himself lost in another memory.

~

__

"Aww, come on Luc. Don't be a spoilsport." Lily pleaded with the scowling dark-haired boy.

He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head firmly. "No way. I don't like flying."

"Pretty please? We're only short of one player for a 5 on 5 Quidditch game. And I know you've finished all your work." Lily teased.

"Don't you have other better options for the last player?" he muttered.

Lily pretended to think. "Well, there is Frank Longbottom, who can't control the broom; Peter is afraid of heights; Remus is sick. And then there's you, who doesn't have any work to do, is healthy and not afraid of heights, and can fly decently."

He hid a reluctant smile at Lily's reasoning, but groused, "Can fly decently indeed."

Lily threw up her hands. "Oh ok, you're a brilliant flyer who just doesn't like flying. Happy? Now, can we go?"

"Whining doesn't become you, Lil." He leaned back against the comfortable black couch, slowing thumbing through Moste Potente Potions, intent on winding her up.

"Sevvie," Lily said in a singsong voice.

He winced, and glared at her. "You know I hate people calling me that. And in that voice too."

She smiled sweetly. "Oh I know." 

He snapped the book shut and placed it back on the shelves, stalking out of the library door. 

"See you at the Quidditch Pitch," she called cheerfully after him.

"Yay, we won!" Lily hugged him laughingly; her eyes bright and sparkling, cheeks flushed from the exertions of the close game. 

"I told you it would be fun." Her obvious happiness was contagious and he found himself smiling back at her. 

"Now, what do you say to another Quidditch game?"

He hesitated, and unable to refuse her, finally said, "If you want."

"Really? Thank you!" Lily smiled brilliantly up at him.

~

"Let's go," Snape said abruptly. "We still haven't covered the manor grounds yet."

Harry's smile faltered, puzzled at the sudden change in mood. His uncle was almost nice a moment ago. _Did he say something wrong?_ He sighed mentally and cast a longing glance at the numerous books before turning to follow.

They finished the tour of the manor grounds before lunchtime. It wasn't a lot; just the main ones like the Owlery, the greenhouse, and the Quidditch Pitch.

"Do you think you can manage your way around the manor or do you need a map?" He needed to make sure the boy wouldn't get lost while he wasn't around.

"I- " Harry seemed uncertain.

He sighed, "Very well, I shall give you a house map later."

"Thank you."

The awkward silence continued all the way back to the manor.

Harry sank down on his bed, thinking about the strange behavior of his uncle. He wasn't cruel like Keleman, nor was he nice like… well, other people. He seemed distant and impersonal mostly, with moods that change suddenly and abruptly for no reasons that he could think of. It was so hard to figure him out. Harry frowned in concentration, trying to analyze his behavior but came up blank. Perhaps all wizards were just strange that way.

Suddenly he missed Dan and his comforting presence. Their relationship was uncomplicated, and it was clear where they stood with each other. Unlike this unknown relationship he had with his uncle that was about as clear as an eutrophicated pond and as certain as the success of walking on a tightrope for one with no prior experience. People were less of a puzzle back at the orphanage and at school, straightforward in their feelings and actions. If someone didn't like him, they'd ignore him at best and beat him at worst. He could deal with that, had coped with the beatings and bullying and survived. Cold shoulders had brushed past him like the air; they don't hurt coming from people he could care less about. He just wasn't used to the hot and cold attitude changes coming from the man.

And Dan… he would not know that he was no longer at the orphanage. Harry bit his lip worriedly. He wanted to tell Dan about what had happened, but would he still accept him and be happy for him? Or would he think that it's unnatural and freak out? There was no one he could talk to, except his uncle who seemed so… forbidding. 

//Master?// 

Harry looked down and saw the colorful snake on the grey carpeted floor. //yes Sandy?// he hissed, stretching out a hand to let her slither onto and placing her gently on the bed.

//Are you ok?//

//Yes…// he hissed distractedly, feeling the cool scales beneath his fingers as he stroked her.

//You look worried.// she observed.

Harry was startled for a while. //I supposed I am.// he agreed.

//About what?//

//You know Dan?//

//Yes… your brother who was adopted.//

Harry smiled sadly. //I don't know if I should tell him about being a wizard.//

//Why?//

//He might hate me.//

//I thought he loves you.//

//He does! It's just… //

//He's a Muggle and might not understand?//

Harry nodded.

//You wouldn't know if you don't tell him. If he really loves you, he wouldn't care.// 

//I suppose you're right…//

Sandy, seeing her master still so distracted and radiating worry and insecurity, slithered up his arm and flicked her forked tongue at his neck in an attempt to reassure him.

Harry giggled, his worries momentarily forgotten as he tried to stop her. //Stop. It's ticklish.//

//Ah, you're ticklish.// Sandy said mischievously, her eyes gleaming as she resumed her 'attack'.

And sounds of breathless laughter filled the room, echoing down the corridor; a child's true laughter that had not been heard in the manor for a long, long time.

A/n: just thought I'd write another chapter before I go off on a long study break for exams. I planned for this chapter to progress to Christmas, but it didn't work out. 

Some questions for reviewers: what do you think of 1) Snape's characterization 2) Harry's characterization 3) Luc's relationship with Lily (believable or?)

4) Should I write a bit more on Harry at the manor or do you want him at Hogwarts soon? (I want to know what readers think/feel, although I may or may not follow.)


	11. chapter 10

There's some addition to the previous chapter which you might want to read, otherwise this would seem a little abrupt.

Thanks for reviewing and brightening up my day =) **SafireMoon, ER, Ginny Lorina Fireseerer, noraseyes, npetrenko, Layce74, Solo, potterlover2004, dass, Laura, BF110C4, K, shortnsassy, frizzy, Cat15, Alena, Different, henriette, avid_reader, Iniysa, Phoenix1210, hazzagriff**

Mella deRanged it's quite hard to make him cold and sarcastic and still act like Lily's brother. They are half- siblings. Harry will be a natural; all that reading must count for something. hehz.

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daxed, tati1 read reply to Mella deRanged.

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Rachel A. Prongs much closer and friendlier is because they kind of need/ want a close siblings relationship. Because Lily and Petunia doesn't exactly get along and Sev always seems like a loner.

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Potter Reader yes. I think harry would become more matured after living in the orphanage and learning to protect himself from beatings/ bullies etc. I suppose you can say the hardships make him grow up faster. 

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Fox890 bingo on the Snape/Lily relationship. I'm working on Dan, was thinking along the same lines. Still debating the house issue though. Thanks for the lovely long review. About my exams, two words: I died. 

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Logan interesting suggestion, I'll try.

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Myrradin glad I could provide a respite from studying. Good luck for exams.

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Lita of Jupiter it was a friendly game. There's nothing much for him to be assertive about. Not currently, perhaps at Hogwarts.

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Kira-Leigh I didn't plan for him to meet any of them until he goes to school

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Alex it's not long and boring, but I'm not going to answer your questions yet; don't want to spoil the story. ;)

Chapter 10

Mindy said that he was working in the potions workroom, and had been there since dawn. He usually does not like to be disturbed while working, but Harry wanted to ask before he changed his mind again. Plus who knows when his uncle will come out. The house-elf revealed that 'Master' has been known to stay inside for days on ends while working on some new potion.

So Harry stood outside the door to the potions workroom, shuffling his feet and worrying at his lower lip. He wondered if he should knock; it's only polite after all. Rising his hand, he rapped the door twice.

"Go away! I'll eat later."

Well, he sounds a little disgruntled, but not too angry. Harry pushed the door open and slipped into the darkened room. _How does one work in this place when you can barely see anything?_ he wondered, eyes taking a few moments to adjust. 

"Insistent as usual, Mindy. Very well, leave the tray over there. I'll eat when I'm hungry."

It was past dinner- time. Perhaps Mindy does this frequently, though she would probably just leave the food and disappear silently. 

"I'm not Mindy, sir."

"Harry? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to-"

"Never mind, just don't move."

"What-" his hand caught something, and sounds of glass breaking rang out a second later.

"I told you to stay still!" 

There were more mutterings, which Harry could not catch, but he gathered his uncle was irritated.

"Lumos!" The room lit up suddenly, and Harry had to blink a few times at the transition from one extreme to the other.

"Reparo!" The glass shards on the floor pieced together to form several containers, rather like the test tubes he had seen in some science textbook.

"Luckily it's just some empty vials. Well, what do you want?" Severus glared at him in annoyance.

"It's ok, I'll come back later," said Harry, slowing inching towards the door.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! You've already spoiled the potion, so no point coming back later, unless you're planning to spoil it again. Now, what do you want?"

He should have known this was a bad idea.

"I want to write to a friend, but he's a Muggle, and I don't know how much I should tell him."

"Do you absolutely have to write to him?"

"Yes."

Severus studied Harry for a while, and turned serious at the determined expression on his face that was so reminiscent of Lily in her moments of stubbornness. It would be less trouble if Harry had just answered no, then he would not have to hint at the complexities of human nature, or teach him skills to surviving life. It is a delicate matter, teaching a child how to lie. The lessons he learnt from this may be morally wrong, but if it can save his life, then so be it. 

"If he's trustworthy and would not betray you, you may tell him about magic and being a wizard," Severus started slowly, his words careful and precise. "If you're not sure how he would react, it's best not to say anything about it. Decide how much you can tell him and try to stick to the truth, but avoid giving names in case the letter is intercepted. No one must know where Harry Potter is staying, and with whom. It is not only a danger to you, but also to your friend." His tone softened slightly but his eyes were no less intense as he asked finally, "Do you understand what I am saying?"

Harry looked thoughtful, his brows knitted together as he processed what his uncle said. "I understand. Thank you. I'm sorry for spoiling your potion."

"The potion is still at its experimental stage."

Harry supposed it was his way of saying 'it might have failed anyway'. "At least you can take a break now." Harry gave him a small smile.

"Yes, I would have died in here if you hadn't come to rescue me," he said dryly.

Harry laughed softly, and asked, "Do you always work in the dark?"

"Of course. I see better when there's no light." Severus opened the door and nudged Harry outside with a hand on his shoulder.

Harry considered him for a while then asked curiously, "Are you always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like so sarcastic."

"Sometimes. Other times I'm just plain mean." His lips curled upwards in a smile which seemed to mock himself.

Harry gazed at him silently, wondering if he was serious, or bitter. Wondering what made him this way. 

"If you really must know, the potion requires ingredients which cannot be exposed to light." 

Harry had a feeling that Uncle was trying to distract him from thinking too much about him, but it worked anyway as his natural curiosity always prompted the one word response to something he did not understand fully. "Why?"

"You won't understand now. Ask me again if you're still interested after you've studied the basics for making potions."

"You can teach me now," Harry said persistently.

And that started a long lecture on the properties and effects of ingredients in various potions, with other ingredients, at different states and sizes et cetera. Harry simply soaked up all these like a sponge, asking questions and clarifying doubts he had, marveling at the sheer knowledge and skills involved in just brewing a potion. Because by the end of that four hour long lecture, he was still no where near understanding why the woolsbann (or something) potion required ingredients which could not be exposed to light. 

Tap. Blue blankets shifted a little. Tap, tap. The body turned away from it, resting on its side. Tap, tap, tap. Tousled brown hair peeped out from the top of the blankets, blinking eyes still drowsy with sleep. The tapping had become more insistent, and it seemed to be coming from behind the curtains. 

'Since when do curtains produce tap tap sounds?' the boy thought, still half asleep. Well, he was a light sleeper, but not one too alert when just woken from slumber. 'Uh curtains… oh yes, the window.' 

He wrapped his thick blankets around his shoulders and walked to the window, curious. Bright yellow eyes stared back at him outside the glass pane, with a dim outline of the rest of the creature visible through the glass as it was covered partially by tiny water droplets on the inside. The creature hooted impatiently and pecked at the window, as if seeking entrance. Surprised, he opened the window to let the owl in, then closed it to prevent the chill wind from entering. The owl landed on his desk and turned those yellow eyes on him expectantly. 

"I don't have any food," he said to it, feeling a little foolish for talking to an owl.

It lifted one of its leg, and a flash of white caught his attention. It looked like rolled up paper tied to the owl's leg by a piece of silver string. He tugged at the string and took the paper, unrolling it to read. Neat, childish handwriting greeted him, and his heart quickened with joy and relief, recognising it as Harry's. 

He had been quite worried after he discovered Harry missing from the orphanage, having gone back to visit the boy a few days ago, wanting to give him a pleasant surprise. Instead, he went home with mysteries surrounding Harry's and Keleman's disappearance. No one saw Harry leave the orphanage, but the other children mentioned a 'scary man' at the orphanage the day he disappeared. And Keleman went missing the next day, with all his clothes and possessions still in his room. It was most curious. 

He could not be bothered about Keleman's disappearance at all if he did not think that the former caretaker knew where Harry was, or at least whom he went with, being more worried for the little boy who was like a brother to him. Perhaps the letter would have answers.

Daniel lifted his eyes from the letter and looked askance at the preening owl. "I'm supposed to give you the letter to deliver to Harry?"

The brown owl puffed out its feathers and hooted twice, which he took as a yes.

"Well, Harry's uncle sure is a strange man. Fancy training owls to deliver letters."

Harry sat at his desk, staring gloomily out of the window, eyes searching the sky for a glimpse of the brown owl he had sent out a few hours ago. What if the owl got lost and can't find Dan? What if it forgot the address? What if-

//Master, stop looking out of the window. The owl will find you when it's back.// 

//What if the letter dropped halfway?//

//Calm down. Perhaps we can take a walk in the garden; I heard green makes people less stress.//

//But, Sandy-//

"Harry?" 

//Yes?// he hissed, turning around to face the speaker.

Harry caught a flicker of something in his uncle's expression that was gone as quickly as it came, and both found themselves staring at each other; one inquiring and innocent, the other unreadable and still as stone. 

"I was reminded that you are interested in flying." Severus finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Yes?" Harry said uncertainly, wondering where this was leading to.

Severus looked out of the window and commented, "The weather is fine today."

Harry turned his head in the same direction and agreed. At least it was not raining (or snowing) like the past few days. Even the sun was out, and while not strong enough to provide much warmth, it at least brightened the usually dark winter skies. 

"Your broom just arrived by owl post."

"My broom? But I don't have a-" Harry's confusion was quickly replaced by joy and delight as realisation dawned on him. "Oh thank you!" Harry wrapped his arms around his uncle in a spontaneous hug, and felt him stiffen before relaxing slightly. 

Severus patted Harry's head awkwardly and tried to ease out of the embrace. "It's in the foyer. I'll meet you at the Quidditch Pitch." 

Harry flashed another blinding smile and almost raced out of the room in his excitement. (Well, he managed to walk briskly out of the room, but raced the rest of the way to the foyer.) Severus hid a smile at the boy's obvious self-restraint, musing about the likeness to another child's composure. Different upbringing yielding same results. Yet one from pride and instruction, while the other for self-control and protection. 

Hissing from the desk caught his attention, and he became thoughtful as his gaze landed on the colourful snake. Black met black, both challenging and assessing. Then the snake turned away and slithered on, leaving behind a disconcerted Snape. 

'It's just a silly snake,' he sneered at himself. 

Then why did he feel like he just won a staring contest and the creature's approval?

Perhaps there's nothing wrong with his hearing after all. 

A/n: so sorry that this took ages. I haven't wrote for a few months and am finding hard to write now 'cause of lack of inspiration and all the usual stuff. I know that's no excuse and will continue to force myself to write, even if it's just sitting in front of the computer and staring at the screen for hours with nothing to show for it. It's a promise that I will try, but not a guarantee for frequent updates. I think just 2 more chapters at the manor (or less) before sending Harry off to Hogwarts. 

Some questions for reviewers: what do you think of 1) Harry's and Snape's characterization 2) Snape-Harry's interaction 3) Dan's character 4) Keleman's disppearance 

Constructive criticism and other thoughts welcomed.


	12. chapter 11

Harry soared through the air, relishing in the wind blowing against him, feelings of freedom and elation coursing through him as he preformed a few loops in the air. He pulled up and went higher, leisurely flying a few laps round the Quidditch Pitch, gradually increasing his speed until the wind was roaring in his ears, whipping his hair back in a black curtain of silk. A sudden dip at the tip of the broom turn it sharply downwards and Harry flattened himself against the back of the broom, making a streamline shape as it cuts through the air, closing his eyes even as the ground rushed up the meet him. 

His relaxed demeanor did not change, and the slight tightening of his knees was the only indicator of his awareness of the rapidly decreasing distance from the ground before the broom was pulled horizontally with the ground. Harry remained still as the broom floated above the ground, enjoying the warmth of the sun and his hand absently twirling a strand of freshly-pluck grass.

"One of these days, you're going to break your neck."

Harry started at that unexpected comment and almost fell off his broom, but managed to right himself and sit up before he embarrassed himself. A smile spread across his face when he saw the figure standing by one of the Quidditch stands and he quickly dismounted to greet him.

"Severus! When did you get back? You didn't mention you were coming back today."

His uncle had allowed him to call him Severus, saying it was far safer than 'uncle' if Harry slipped up in public in future. The address 'uncle' established blood relations between them, while 'Severus' only meant familiarity, and the latter was easier to explain away than the former if overheard by others. Harry felt that it was disrespectful but gradually got used to it. He supposed if the one being disrespected doesn't mind, then he shouldn't either. 

Harry was glad to see Severus as he was always away for long periods of time, teaching during school term at some wizarding school up north of Scotland or something. The abundant books and knowledge in the library and manor itself kept him occupied, and he could always turn to flying if he got bored, but he couldn't help feeling lonely sometimes, even with Sandy and the portraits around talking to him. It's been three years since he first came here, and he had grown quite attached to this place and his only living relative, despite his occasional snarky and cutting remarks.

Severus had started to tutor him in various subjects after he came back from the first school term. Somehow his uncle had found out about his attempt to self-study and read up on all the books in the library, and felt it would be safer if he had some guidance instead of just rushing headlong into the unknown. Well, maybe the little accident with the vase and feather had something to do with it. Harry really didn't mean to break the vase or create a fire. He thought it would be safe since it was only _Wingardium Leviosa_!

After that alarming incident, Harry spent most of the time doing theory, venturing into practical spell-casting only when a supervising adult was present, meaning Severus since he's the only adult around if he's around. That might be another reason why he was glad to see Severus, if he had not stumbled across Lady Amelia a few weeks ago on one of his exploratory hunts around the manor. After all, there was no condition that the supervising adult had to be alive.

---ooOoo---

There was a strange feeling in his chest at the obvious delight on the boy's face as he saw him, and it was rather comforting, the thought and realization that there was at least one person who was delighted to see him besides the house elves. He didn't expect that, unlike the constant feeling of welcome he got from the manor each time he came home. The boy's spirit and green eyes reminded him of Lily, but there was no longer any bitterness towards him for the memory he evoked. It would be a miserable life indeed if he still could not get over it. Harry was the only living remainder of Lily now, and Severus would cherish and protect him as best as he could, just like what Lily would have wanted him to do.

"It was a last minute decision." Severus started walking back to the manor by one of the side staircases and Harry fell into step beside him.

"I thought you would be busy at school until the holidays."

Severus made a non-committal sound then asked, "How's your work coming along?"

Harry brightened and said, "It's great! Those books you've recommended are really helpful and so interesting. I didn't know there were so many guidelines about the preparation, mixing, stirring and addition of ingredients with regards to their properties and how much to add is crucial, like too much fire-based with water-based ingredients would detract from the effectiveness of the resulting potion because the interaction is not complete and does not provide an optimum-"

"Please remember to breathe," Severus said, amused at the boy's determination to rattle off everything he'd learnt as if he himself, being a Potions Master, would not know what was exactly in the book that he had given the boy.

Harry snapped out of his train of speech and, as if realizing what his uncle was saying, flushed red and immediately stopped, giving a sheepish 'Oops?' as an apology.

He mentally shook his head at the boy; some things never change. "I supposed you're getting along with Lady Amelia?" he inquired casually.

"Well enough, though she-" Harry suddenly stopped and stared at him. "How do you-"

"I have my ways." Indeed, the magical link that exists between manor and master is very useful sometimes. "I know you've been keeping up with your lessons and Lady Amelia has been helping you with it, but practical spell-casting is still- difficult. There is something that can help."

He had led them to one of the rooms in the lower level, one that had not been used for quite sometime, as apparent by the dusky smell and thin layer of undisturbed dust. Severus muttered a cleaning and lighting charm in quick succession and indicated for Harry to step in. The room was rather plain, no portraits adorned the walls, nor did ornaments litter the sides. The floor was different, made up of a sort of black spongy material that was softer than the normal stone flooring of rooms in the lower level, but not so soft that it would visibly sink when pressure was applied. A life-sized figure stood in the middle, rather like half-made doll with no face, hair and discernable sex. Harry supposed 'mannequin' covered it nicely.

"If you have quite finished staring," Severus said impatiently, and Harry turned his attention to him. "You may practise any spells, charms, jinxes, hexes or curses on this simulated model. The spells will take effect as if they were cast on a real person. There are a few levels to this mechanism: one, it stands still throughout; two, it can move around and duck your spells; three, it can duel you. The levels have sub-levels, with the option of its ability to counter or end the spells, whether it exhibits human reactions to the spells, and limiting the level and type of spells it uses in retaliation." 

"Wow."

Yes, well, wow, Severus thought dryly. It was one of the more ingenious inventions of his ancestor, an Octavian Slvius Snape who wanted to perfect his dueling skills and invented a model dueler that could push his limits. Over the years, easier levels were added to allow his children to use it for practise dueling and practical spell-casting. Severus himself had started out with this simulated model and he found that, at its higher levels, it was not that different from dueling a real person, except that it does not sustain permanent damages, simply reconstructing itself after the duel or practice session was concluded. The model could even take on the appearance of a real person if a bodily sample of the person could be obtained, like a strand of hair, fingernail, blood etc. 

Severus could see the boy was excited at the prospect of practicing the spells and curses which he had only read in books so far, because theory, while easy to understand, was quite useless on its own as one has to be able to put the knowledge into use. Harry could not keep using Lily's wand either; he'll have to bring him to Diagon Alley soon. 

"For specific instructions and incantations to make use of the model, read this. I'll be staying for a few days so you can clear your doubts with me." Severus produced a small book from his robe pocket and handed it to Harry. "We be going to get your wand tomorrow. Be ready at 8 am sharp."

"Yes, sir," Harry said cheekily, grinning at him.

"Brat," Severus muttered, but it was without the usual sting and glare that he directed at those imbeciles he had the misfortune of teaching, if you could call it such, at Hogwarts.

--ooOoo--

They were standing in front of the main fireplace in the parlour, and Severus was giving last minute instructions, "Keep your hood up at all times and do not, I repeat, do not leave my side and wander off by yourself or with strangers. Should you get lost or get into trouble, here," he handed Harry a Chocolate Frog, who looked at it curiously, "is a Portkey. Just hold it and say _transportus_, and it'll transport you back to the manor. However try to make sure no one else undesirable is holding onto you when the Portkey activates. I trust I need not stress that this particular chocolate frog is not for eating?" Severus glared at Harry when he laughed at the comment.

"Think it's funny, do you? It happened to some first-year dunderhead I had to pick up last year. Needless to say, the magic infused in the Portkey reacted unfavourably in his system and he had to be rushed to St Mungo's for treatment before he permanently became a human Portkey," he said, disgusted.

Severus threw some Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepped in, saying clearly, "Diagon Alley," and disappeared in a whirl of green flames. Harry stared uncertainly at the now orange flames, and then at the green powder in his hand. He had read about traveling by Floo but had never attempted it before. What if he ended up somewhere strange?

Severus must be getting impatient. Harry threw the powder into the fireplace and the flames turned green like before. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the fireplace and said loudly, "Diagon Alley!" tucking in his elbows and closing his eyes as a dizzying rush propelled him forward, executing an occasional sharp turn- _splat! _-and he tumbled ungracefully out of the fireplace, landing on his bottom in front of a pair of black boots. Harry quickly got up and dusted himself, trying to hide his embarrassment at the clumsy landing and cursing Floo travel. No, flying was infinitely more pleasant. 

Severus didn't say anything but Harry still scowled at him, as though he knew his uncle was smirking at him under his hood. Harry looked around Diagon Alley, his curiosity aroused as it was his first time here, and didn't think it very different from the streets of Minturi where the nearest shops from the orphanage were located. But the shops and their wares were of great interest to him and he longed to explore, but a tug at his cloak warned him of wandering off. The day was still early and not many people were here; those that walked the streets didn't even give them more than a cursory glance. Harry sighed, and followed Severus down the street, stopping at a narrow and shabby little shop, with a sign 'Ollivander's -Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC'. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. 

There was a tinkling bell sound as they stepped into the shop and Harry didn't think he'd seen so many narrow boxes lined side by side each other, stacked from floor to ceiling. He wondered how one could find one's chosen wand among the many thousands in here without making a right mess but his musings were cut short by the appearance of an old man with eerie, moon-like eyes.

"Severus Snape," he said thoughtfully, "willow, 13 inches, pleasantly springy, nice wand for dueling. I trust it serves you well?"

"Yes," Severus said evenly. "I'm here to get a wand for him." 

Mr Ollivander moved forward. "Ah, Harry Potter. I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. Very well, on with business. Which is your wand arm?"

"Right?" Harry was disconcerted by the strange old man and those eyes that seemed to see right through him. Magical measuring tapes were already sliding along his arm and body and he suddenly found himself holding a wand Mr Ollivander thrust at him. Gingerly, he waved the wand, only to have it snatched out of his hand and replaced with another. The second one obviously didn't work either and a third was given to him. 

Harry wasn't sure what it was that Mr Ollivander looked for before knowing the wand was suitable or not, but he was getting tired of waving each and every wand. Occasionally the monotonous routine was broken by an explosion or shattering of glass which only caused Mr Ollivander to be more excited at having this 'tricky customer but we'll find you a wand soon!' Honestly, he doesn't seem to be quite in his right mind.

"Try this one," Mr Ollivander said, for what seemed to be the thousandth time, but there was something different in his tone, a slight expectancy as Harry brought his arm down in a swish. A warmth rushed through him and the wand, emitting silver and blue sparks like a firework, and he could hear a melodious song that touched his core and spread a sense of peace through him. 

"You've found your wand," Ollivander said with an odd smile. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

He put Harry's wand back into the box and wrapped it in brown paper, muttering, "Curious… curious…"

"Excuse me, but what is so curious?" Harry asked.

Mr Ollivander stared at him unnervingly and said, "The phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand gave another feather- just one other. It is curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar. I think we must expect great- " 

"Thank you, Mr Ollivander," Severus interrupted smoothly, "We need to go."

"Yes, indeed," he looked at Severus piercingly, "Indeed. That would be seven Galleons. Thank you."

Severus paid and exchanged some words with the man, but Harry could not hear what was said. He didn't think he liked the old man; he was too creepy by far.  They left, watched by a pair of wide, pale eyes. 

_Yes, I will keep the secret for you until he turns eleven. _

_Good luck, Harry Potter._

---ooOoo---

Thanks to all reviewers. I really appreciate the comments and encouragements; they keep me going. Hope you like the new chapter, and sorry it took so long. I seem to be forever apologizing for the period of waiting, but I guess it really was my fault for posting a WIP. Thanks for reading, and for your patience.  


	13. chapter 12

Disclaimer: nothing you recognise belongs to me. Most of Hermione's dialogue and the journey to Hogwarts onwards are from the book HP & Sorcerer's Stone. I don't think I even wrote half of this chapter; it has JK Rowling's words all over.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry ducked the disarming spell and threw a Confundus Charm at the model. It dodged the charm and sent a Conjunctivitis Curse his way.

Oh crap! Harry thought and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being hit by the curse.

"Stupefy!"

Darn! Missed again!

"Reducto!"

There was a loud blast and black scorch marks where Harry was standing moments before.

"Serpensortsia!"

A large black snake burst from the end of his wand and slithered towards the model.

"_Bind his legs_," Harry hissed.

"_No, bite him_."

Harry was startled; he didn't know that dueling himself meant the fake him would have same abilities, like being able to talk to snakes. The snake stopped, obviously confused about who it should obey. Seeing as it would be of no use if both of them kept ordering the snake to attack the other, Harry Banished it.

"We'll never end this, you know," the model-Harry said.

"Yes, I'm starting to realise my mistake," Harry sighed. "Avis!"

A flock of small twittering birds flew towards the model-Harry and he brought his arms up in a reflex action to ward them off, blindly flinging his hands at the birds.

"Stupefy!"

Harry grinned as the other Harry fell. Finally it was over. He was so tired; his whole body ached from ducking and rolling and diving to avoid the spells, and he was mentally exhausted from trying to think of spells and counter-spells to use, plus strategy and diversionary tactics. It was a good exercise though, and Harry was quite satisfied with the hour's work.

He restored the room and began trudging up to his room. It was times like this that made him curse the size of the manor and the many bloody staircases. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden 'pop' sound, and Mindy appeared in front of him, bobbing up and down excitedly.

"Master is back," she squeaked, "and Master wishes to see young master Harry in his study. Mindy thinks Master has young master Harry's Hogwarts letter!"

Harry smiled at her and said, "Thanks, Mindy. I was just on my way up."

Mindy nodded and bowed, then disappeared. Sometimes Harry wished he could do that; it sure beats climbing up the stairs.

'You're getting spoilt,' a voice in his head said, 'surrounded by all this magic and freedom.'

Yes, he thought somberly, it wouldn't do to forget the hows, whys, and what was before he got here.

"Severus? You wanted to see me?"

"I see you are still incapable of comprehending a simple message."

"Severus!"

"You did state the obvious."

"Fine. Why do you want to see me?"

"Your Hogwarts letter," he said, nodding to an envelop on his desk.

Harry picked up the letter and glanced through it. "You don't seem happy."

"You won't be happy too, teaching a bunch of imbeciles every year who have no interests in learning, always engaging in tomfoolery and getting into trouble."

"Well, you have one less imbecile to teach this year," Harry said slyly.

"Ever so modest, Mr Potter."

"I try my best," he said demurely, smoothing down his shirt.

Severus laughed, "Incorrigible brat."

Harry grinned and said, "Do I have to get my supplies?"

"I've already ordered your supplies. They should arrive latest by tomorrow."

--oO—

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform, empty except for a few early arrivers, like him. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven O'clock. It was only ten. Harry had arrived early to avoid the crowd and took the Floo here with Severus. The older man had left for the school after bringing him to the platform, saying he was required to be there earlier for some preparations.

Smoke from the engine drifted over his head and he levitated his trunk in front of him, heading towards the end of the train for an empty compartment. He would less likely be disturbed there as people would fill up the front compartments first. Sandy was curled round his arm, sleeping. Harry had asked if he could bring Sandy and Severus's reply was, "You can bring her. Keeping her, however, is another matter." So he spent the last month looking up concealing spells and practising them.

Harry started as the compartment door slid open and a girl appeared, looking surprised that it was occupied. She had bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth, and, like him, was already wearing the Hogwarts robe.

"Oh sorry, I don't mean to intrude. I thought there wouldn't be people in the end compartments."

"It's ok."

She seemed to be hesitating, biting her lower lip like she wanted to say something. "Can I sit here?"

There goes his quiet time. "Sure."

She smiled gratefully and lugged her trunk in, settling opposite him. "I hope I'm not imposing on you but it's become sort of a habit for me to choose the end compartments. It's more quiet and the crowd doesn't come to the rear often."

Great minds think alike then.

"That's what I thought too," Harry said.

The girl flushed and Harry said hurriedly, "I don't mean you or anything. I'm Harry Potter, by the way. What's your name?"

"Oh how silly of me to forget to introduce myself," she laughed nervously, smoothing out her robes. "Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you."

Harry smiled. "You're a muggle-born, aren't you? You can relax, you know."

Hermione looked embarrassed. "Was I that obvious?"

"Quite."

"It's rather exciting and nerve-wrecking for me because nobody in my family's magical at all; it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough."

"Slow down. It's ok. I doubt many first years have much practice with magic before going to Hogwarts."

"I suppose so… Hey, you're Harry Potter!"

"I thought you knew that ten minutes ago."

"I know but I just realised- I mean, I've read about you- I got a few extra books for background reading and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise- "

"-and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. Yes, I've read about me too."

She looked apologetic and Harry felt he really shouldn't be so amused at her expense.

"Well, I think I'd just keep quiet now."

"It's ok. You just need to relax."

Hermione gave him a small smile and asked, "What house do you think you'll be in?"

Harry thought for a while. "I don't really know. Maybe Ravenclaw, since I like reading and learning."

"Really? Me too, though I hope to get into Gryffindor. It sounds by far the best and I heard Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad."

"There seems to be a sort of bias towards certain houses, like Gryffindor is favoured by most people while Hufflepuff is ridiculed, and Slytherin is despised."

"What did you say?"

"Oh nothing, just a random thought."

He was saved from having to elaborate as the compartment door was slid back, and a smiling, dimpled woman asked, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

--oO--

It was already dark when they reached there and Harry could barely make out dark shapes of the mountains and forests against the deep purple sky through the window. He was a little nervous and excited. Hermione looked indifferent but he saw her smoothing out her robes and hair several times, calming actions for herself, and clasping her hands behind her back to stop from fidgeting. They gave each other reassuring smiles and joined the crowd thronging the corridor, moving towards the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air and quietly cast a warming charm on both of them.

Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard shouts of "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" and made out the shape of a large man by the lamp's light.

Slipping and stumbling, they followed the large man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on both side of them and Harry, not wanting to walk blindly, muttered "Lumos!" to see better. Nobody spoke much, though Harry heard someone behind him sniff once or twice. 

The narrow path suddenly opened into the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. It looked even more magnificent than the picture in Hogwarts, A History.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the man called out, pointing to a fleet of little boats slightly bobbing up and down on the water by the shore. Harry and Hermione got into a boat, and a red-haired boy and another black-haired boy joined them. Hermione gave a start when the boat moved, together with the fleet of little boats, gliding across the lake, which seemed as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled the man as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They moved along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour where everyone clambered out onto a pathway, made of rocks and pebbles. They followed the man and his lamp, the only source of light, climbing up a passageway in the rock, and came out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. Feet shuffled up a flight of stone steps and the first years crowded in front of a huge, oak door.

The man raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door. It swung open at once and a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here"

She pulled the door wide and motioned them to follow her. The entrance hall was as big as the manor's and its stonewalls were lit with flaming torches. The ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them spiraled upwards, leading to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -the rest of the school must already be here -- but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. Everyone crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Harry looked around idly and saw his batch mates in various states of anxiety, discussing the Sorting and how it would be done, all letting their imaginations run wild. Harry caught parts of a conversation, something like 'wrestling a troll' and stifled a snort. Hermione was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.

"It's not a test. You don't have to, and can't, do anything."

"How would you know?" she whispered furiously back.

Harry sighed and muttered, "Why is everyone so uptight about the Sorting? It's not even graded or something."

"People fear the unknown, my boy." It was a whisper, and a breath of cold air brushed his ear. He turned and a slightly transparent gaunt face stared back at him, before smiling, if one could call it that, a twisted creepy image that would have sent most people running. Harry wondered how he managed not to scream or jump or even show any outward response. Perhaps he was used to ghosts, but Lady Amelia never sneaked up on him, nor did she ever looked as scary as this terrifying ghost with blank staring eyes and robes stained with silver blood. He became aware that several people around him were screaming.

The ghost floated up, and Harry noticed that he wasn't the only one; there were about twenty ghosts gliding across the room, talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance --"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – "

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling the beginnings of excitement stirring his stomach, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Hermione behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Books couldn't have prepared him for this actual experience of being here.

Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Yes, he remembered reading about it, but that had seemed like a trivial detail then, not so now. It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open up to the heavens.

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth -- and the hat began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Harry let his eyes roam, examining the students. Different tables had students with different coloured badge and ties, according to their house colours. Most were quite attentive, cheering and clapping when a first year was sorted into their house. Perhaps Professor McGonagall was right when she said your house would be like your family. Suddenly, Harry felt anxious about the Sorting. He hoped he wouldn't be put in a house where he was disliked. It would be too hard to stand for seven years. But he doubted it could get as bad as his years in the orphanage. It hurt that he was so foolish then; he wouldn't play that role again. He refused to play that role again.

He noted that Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor and smiled because she had gotten her wish.

"You'll be fine." A soft hiss under his sleeve reminded him that Sandy was still with him. He stroked the snake covertly, keeping silent because it would be unwise to speak in this crowd.

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall-full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes -- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting.... So where shall I put you?"

Harry sat still and thought, 'Anywhere that is best for me.'

"Right then," said the small voice, "it's got to be SLYTHERIN!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked calmly towards the Slytherin table. He was acutely aware of the uncomfortable silence that had fallen across the hall and the increasing twittering and whispers. The belated cheers and clapping came but he could feel the weight of everyone's stares on him and he lifted his chin a notch, refusing to let their reaction get him down.

He sat beside the ghost who had spoken to him earlier and searched the High Table for Severus's reaction. The corners of Severus's lips quirked as Harry held his gaze and there was just the slightest toast of his goblet before he took a sip. Harry hid a smile at the subtle approval.

"We meet again, young one," the ghost said.

"Yes, Your Bloodiness," Harry said respectfully.

"You know of me."

Harry wasn't sure if it sounded like delight, but the smile that stretched across the ghost's face was quite terrifying.

"The older students spoke of you," he said smoothly. It wouldn't do to slip up so soon, especially if he was placed in Slytherin for a reason.

"Ah, I see. Welcome to Slytherin, Harry Potter. Enjoy the feast. I trust we will meet again."

"Of course," he murmured as the Bloody Baron gave him an imperceptible nod and glided away.

"The Bloody Baron doesn't usually take initiative to speak to us," a voice to his left said. "I think he likes you."

Harry laughed. "I'll take it as a compliment then. I'm Harry Potter. And you are?"

"Terence Higgs, Slytherin Seeker and sixth year prefect," said the brown-haired teen, shaking his offered hand.

"Pleased to meet you. Tell me more about the older students?"

"You're a curious one. First years usually ask about the teachers and classes."

"I'm different," he said lightly.

Terence gave him a measuring look. "Yes… that you are.

"That's Marcus Flint, sixth year, the Quidditch Captain and Keeper. Beside him is Derrick Miles, third year, Beater. Adrian Pucey is further down, the black-haired boy, third year, Chaser. Charlie Warrington sits opposite him, fourth year, also Chaser. And Montague's a third year Chaser, just beside- "

"The Quidditch team always sits together?"

Terence shrugged. "The team's quite close, and if it helps us win the Quidditch Cup, no one's complaining."

"What about the other Houses' students?"

Terence thought for a while. "I heard the Ravenclaw girl Penelope Clearwater's pretty good at Charms. Cedric Diggory's not bad at Defense against the Dark Arts for a Hufflepuff. Angelina Johnson's top in Transfiguration but that may just be because Professor McGonagall's her Head of House. And Terence Higgs's quite good in Potions, if he dares say so himself. Our Charlie's not bad in Herbology either."

Harry noticed Terence only named people and the area they're strong in. How… Slytherin.

Harry grinned and said, "Thanks. Now I know who to look for when I have trouble with my work."

"You learn fast."

"I've had good guidance from older students, like you."

Terence smiled. "Second lesson: be subtle."

"Unless flattery is one's weakness."

"Very good… very good… Welcome, Harry Potter, to the House of Cunning and Stealth."

He felt pleased by the absolute acceptance of his place in the House.

Yes, everything seemed to be going smoothly.

--oO--

Terence led them through the hall and down the staircases to the dungeons, down stone steps and into dark labyrinthine passages, passing by the rare snoozing portraits. They walked for quite a while, going deeper and deeper under the school until Terence paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"Basilisk," he said, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open.

Terence went through it, and the rest of the first years followed him into the Slytherin common room. It was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

"Gather round, first years." Terence waited until he had everyone's attention before speaking. "Now, a password is needed to enter the common room and it is changed weekly, so make sure you remember the correct password or you can wait outside until another Slytherin lets you in. This week's password is basilisk. Our Head of House, Professor Snape, will be here shortly to speak to you."

"Thank you, Terence," a deep voice said. Terence nodded at the man and stepped aside.

"Welcome Slytherins, whether returning for yet another school year or joining us for the first time. Like the other three houses, Slytherin has its unique and prized qualities and you were considered to have possessed these qualities and worthy of this house, thus your presence here. Do not let the invidious rumours and malicious whisperings convince you otherwise. There is honour in this house, though many repudiate our brand of honour, and a few rules need to be set, new to the first years and a reminder to the older students.

"As Slytherins, we are often discriminated outside of our house and we do not need further antagonism within the house, especially outside of these rooms. Settle your differences with one another in the privacy of the common room but once outside of these walls, you protect and defend fellow Slytherins regardless of personal feelings should he or she be prosecuted by members of another House.

"In addition, one does not contribute to the windmill of gossip that goes on in the school. Whatever unpleasant things that happened within the house stays among the house members. Slytherins guard their secrets jealously.

"I must impress upon all of you that your house will be like your family within Hogwarts. We may be, as they say, 'slimy Slytherins'," Severus's lips curled at the distasteful label, "but even serpents look after their own. My office door is always open to those who need help."

The cohort was oddly silent throughout and after the speech and it was obvious that Severus had made a deep impression on the first years. The older students, despite having heard the speech before, looked serious. Harry doubted this was a side of Slytherin the other houses and teachers ever saw.

"It is late and I'm sure all of you need the rest. Terence, please get them settled in."

Everyone started to move off, and Harry turned, following the directions of 'first years' boy's dormitory first door on the left, girl's on the right'.

There were six beds, three on each side, all four-posters hung with dark green, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up and one was standing at the foot of each bed. Harry found his in front of the bed near the door, with only one other bed on the other side.

"Don't mind if I go to bed and leave the introductions 'til morning. I'm so," he stifled a yawn, "tired."

There were murmurs of agreement and they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

--oO--

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the kid with the blonde hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

"Can't believe he's a Slytherin."

"His parents were Gryffindors."

"I heard You-Know-Who was in Slytherin too."

Harry clenched his fists but maintained the aloof mask; all this whispering and staring was bloody well getting on his freaking nerves. Whispers had followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Harry wished he could just banish all of them to the other side of the world. He was starting to feel like some bloody animal on exhibition!

"When do you reckon those idiots will stop staring?" Draco asked, amused.

"Beats me if I know how idiots think," Harry said irritably.

Draco laughed, and Crabbe and Goyle grunted, or snorted, whichever describes their way of laughing.

Finding their way to classes was a bit tough as the staircases seemed to keep changing. Peeves wasn't really a problem for the Slytherins, unlike for students of the other houses, because they always threatened him with the Bloody Baron and he would leave them alone. Some classes-- Charms, Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts--weren't quite up to his expectations (hell, DADA was a joke), but he still paid attention and duly copied notes, and in his free time, read ahead and attempted some of the more advanced spells in the textbook.

Astronomy was a little new to him, and they had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Tuesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology with Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. He had done very little on the practical aspects of Herbology with Severus, and found the experience interesting.

History of Magic was the most boring class, and try as he might, he couldn't help falling asleep sometimes. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and after a while Harry just gave up, charming his quill to take down notes and muffled his ears, doing his own self-study in class.

"Finally, Friday," said Draco, pouring syrup on his pancakes.

"Why are you so happy?"

"We've got double Potions with the Gryffindors," Theodore said, unperturbed, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

Harry had almost forgot about it but he doesn't see what's the big deal. "You like Potions that much?"

"Sure I like Potions, but the best part is the Gryffindors," Draco said with a wicked grin.

"You're crazy today."

"I'm perfectly sane-"

"What Draco meant was Professor Snape would favour us and torment the Gryffindors," said Blaise.

"How do you know?"

"You haven't heard? The stories are legendary."

"Stop being so melodramatic, Draco," said Harry.

"You'll see later. It'll be fun. Come on, let's get to class."

"It's still early."

"He wants to get good seats for the 'show'."

Draco smirked at Blaise and dragged Crabbe and Goyle with him. Harry just sighed and followed them to the dungeons where they would be having Potions. They were the first few to arrive in the class and Harry took the time to examine the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls and to set up his things. Slowly the students streamed in, and it was unsurprising that the Slytherins and Gryffindors were separated into two halves, down the middle of the room where the aisle was.

Sev- Professor Snape started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new -- celebrity."

Harry groaned inwardly. Trust Severus to embarrass him like this. He caught a flash of amusement in Severus's black eyes that was quickly masked by disdain. Someone sniggered and he glared in the Gryffindors' direction. Severus finished calling the names and looked up at the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word -- Professor Snape, like Professor McGonagall, had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry tried not to smile while Draco sneered at the Gryffindors. Glancing over, he saw that Hermione was on the edge of her seat and she looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Harry had not talked to the girl since the Sorting; he had no time, always rushing to classes, and this was the first of the only class he shared with Gryffindor.

"Mr Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

He remembered that one- it was drilled into him-

"You would get a sleeping potion called Draught of Living Death, Professor."

"Ten points to Slytherin." He turned on the Gryffindors. "Weasley! Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione's hand had shot into the air but Weasley looked a little pale, eyes darting to his friends for some help. "I don't know."

"Ten points from Gryffindor. Potter?"

"A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons."

"Very good, ten points to Slytherin."

"Weasley! What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Weasley loudly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed but they were foolish Gryffindors. Severus was not pleased and he snapped, "Sit down, Granger! And twenty points from Gryffindor for Weasley's incapability to answer simple questions and Granger's inability to sit still.

"For your information, monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Weasley."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Harry saw what Draco meant by favouring Slytherins and tormenting Gryffindors then, and he felt a little sorry for the Gryffindors, who hadn't done much wrong except for getting sorted into that particular house.

They worked in pairs to mix up a simple potion to cure boils while Severus swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except him and Draco. Severus was saying something about the perfect way Draco had stewed his horned slugs when Harry noticed the clouds of acid green smoke rising above one of the Gryffindor's melted cauldron, producing loud hissing sounds as the potion seeped across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while the boy, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

The boy whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at a sandy-haired boy. Then he rounded on Hermione and the red-haired Weasley boy who had been working next to the injured boy. "You – Granger – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Hermione looked like she was going to argue but Weasley nudged her and muttered something that sounded vaguely like 'don't push it' and 'can turn very nasty'.

"Another point from Gryffindor for talking in class, Weasley. Class dismissed!"

Now Weasley looked angry enough to start what Hermione wanted to do moments before. Luckily, he just grabbed his stuff and stormed out.

"Did you see their reactions?" Draco said as they walked out. "They all look fit to burst anytime soon." The group laughed but Harry only managed a half-hearted smile. He saw that Blaise wasn't that amused either and was glad he wasn't the only one at odds with the general consensus of the group that 'tormenting Gryffindors' was fun.

=================

Please review! Also, I'm wondering if I should do year 1 to 5, or just some short, interesting scenes that happened differently from the books. What do you think?

ETA: I forgot Theodore Nott earlier (thanks to Hippity for telling me and Blaise has been confirmed as a boy by JK Rowling) so there are six first year boys in Slytherin instead of five in the earlier version.


	14. chapter 13

"Where are you going?" asked Blaise as they walked out of the Great Hall together with the majority of the students who were rushing off to classes after lunch. Fortunately, first years have Friday afternoon off.

Harry shrugged and said, "I think I'll walk around and explore. Maybe go to the library or something."

"Library? It's only the first week of school."

"I'd like to see what books they have."

Blaise shook his head but didn't comment.

"Well, I'll see you later then," said Harry when they reached the marble staircase.

"Later." And the other boy headed toward the dungeons, probably to put his stuff in the common room.

Harry walked up alone, enjoying the peaceful solitude and taking the time to really look around, observing the portraits and enchanted armour suits and the occasional floating ghosts. The corridors were deserted. He supposed the older students were all in classes and first years were probably exploring the grounds outside the castle or in their common rooms.

The librarian looked up when he entered and he smiled tentatively, a silent greeting which she returned and promptly went back to what she was doing before, head bent over the counter. 'Madam Pince' a sign on the counter read, followed by another that had the heading 'rules of the library'. He wandered around, weaving between shelves of books, remembering where each section was located and picking out books that caught his interest. Moving towards an empty table off the side, Harry caught sight of a head of bushy brown hair in the corner. He paused, then changed direction, approaching Hermione.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Herminone looked up, surprised but cleared the books and notes that were spread on the table to make space for him.

"Thanks. Why aren't you outside with the rest of the Gryffindors?" He had overheard some of them talking about going to the lake for a picnic or something.

"Can't, I have to finish my work and read up on next chapter before class," she said, head bent over parchment and scribbling furiously.

"You should relax, you know."

"I am here to learn, not relax."

"You're here to learn, make friends and have fun," he corrected.

She stopped and looked up. "I can't fall behind just because I'm muggle-born and-"

"You don't have to prove anything just because you're muggle-born."

"I- the rest- they don't really like me. I thought if I worked harder and gained more points…"

Harry sighed. "You're getting it all wrong, Hermione. From what I've seen in Potions class today, people, if they don't like you, think that you're just an eager show-off."

"I'm not-"

"Think about it: how would you feel if you're one of them and this muggle-born girl always shows everyone up and the teachers always praise her?"

Her month slowly formed a shape of 'O' and she pressed her lips tightly, brows drawn together, thinking pensively.

"People don't take kindly to know-it-alls or teacher's pets, Hermione. You're a smart girl but you're too obvious. There's such thing as trying too hard."

"No talking in the library," a stern voice said.

Harry hadn't noticed the librarian approaching them. He gave her an apologetic look and opened his book, Transfiguration in Duels, while Herminone mouthed a 'sorry' and returned to her scribbling. Mdm Pince gave them a last warning look before walking away.

Neither of them made an attempt to talk after that, but it was a comfortable silence, a studious quiet. Harry soon lost himself in the complex explanations of human transfiguration and creative use of transfiguration in duels. It didn't really occur to him that transfiguration could be useful in duels and he resolved to think more about the possibilities. Pity they wouldn't be learning human transfiguration until sixth year.

It was nearing supper time and Harry saw that he wouldn't have time to finish the book. He borrowed it and returned the rest. Hermione had already packed her things and was by the entrance, looking interested in some runes decorating the wall. Harry didn't expect her to wait for him but he didn't comment, and they walked out together.

"You're quite nice for a Slytherin," she said suddenly, breaking the silence in the corridor.

"And you're too Ravenclaw for a Gryffindor."

They were reaching the first level and Harry said, "I think we'd better part here. The Gryffindors won't be happy if you're with a Slytherin."

The Slytherins wouldn't be happy if he was seen with a muggle-born Gryffindor either.

"Yar, I guess… see you around?"

"See you around," he said, smiling slightly.

Hermione turned right and stepped onto one of the changing staircases going up while he continued down to the dungeons.

Scattered conversations greeted him when he entered the dormitory and he caught Draco saying '… imagine Longbottom on a broom?'

"I couldn't care less as long as he doesn't injure me with his clumsiness," said Blaise. "Hey, Harry."

"Hey." Harry set down his bag and plopped himself on his bed. "What's all this talk about broomsticks and injuries?"

"We've got flying lessons with the Gryffindors next Thursday. It's on the notice board."

"I thought first years aren't allowed to bring brooms?"

"We'll be using old school brooms, I think."

Draco made a face. "It's a crime for such a talented flyer as myself to use those old brooms."

"If you're truly talented, you'd still look good on the lousiest broomstick," said Harry.

Draco looked pleased at the thought; he obviously didn't catch the underlying insinuation about his flying 'talent'. Harry tuned out when they, mainly Draco, started talking about their harrowing adventures on the broomstick- 'nearly crashed into a muggle helicopter once'- and thought about how nice it would be to be able to fly freely again.

--oO--

Harry knocked sharply on the door and it swung open immediately, just enough for him to enter. It slammed shut behind him as soon as he crossed the threshold, soundlessly so, but he could feel the sudden and short disturbance in the air, cooling the back of his neck. Severus sat behind his desk, partially covered by rolls of parchment stacked up neatly on the left. He scratched out something with red ink and scrawled a final mark, which looked like either a tick or a 'C'.

"Marking essays so soon?"

"I wouldn't call them essays. No insight, no understanding, no logical connectives. Just blind reproduction of resource books." Severus made another irate red slash across the parchment.

"Go easy on the first years. It's only their first essay."

Severus looked up and enunciated, "I do not go easy on anyone." He scowled at the essay and wrote something, something unpleasant no doubt, and continued, "Besides, these are third years' work."

Harry didn't know who to feel more sorry for, the professor marking trashy work or the poor student who was being failed with great scathing remarks all over his script. It looks like he would need to wait if he wanted to speak to the man. He sighed and walked over to a side shelf, his eyes wandering over the titles.

Harry finally picked out one 'Useful Potions' and settled by the fireplace to read, lying on his front.

"I suppose you intend to play Quidditch for the house."

Harry looked up thoughtfully. "I might."

"Only might? After all the time spent nearly breaking your neck and every other bone in your body? Oh, I think you will."

"First years don't make team."

"There are exceptions to every rule, Mr Potter," Severus said neutrally.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Playing favouritism, Uncle?"

"Favouritism is reward without merit. You'll be deciding if you get to play this year."

"Hmm… maybe. Will we still have lessons?"

"I should think school work would be keeping you busy."

Harry smiled. No regular lessons then, but his doors are open for independent studies.

"Tell me about your colleagues."

"I do not gossip with my students."

He threw Severus a mock-hurt look and got up to put the book back on the shelf.

"How do you find the Slytherins?"

"I do not gossip with my teachers," Harry said primly, and grinned. "They're okay. I think strong friendships can be built as time pass."

"Most of these children have parents with allegiance to the Dark Lord. Choose your friends wisely."

"I know. I just think they shouldn't be judged by their parents' actions."

"I'm not judging them. All I'm saying is be careful. The Dark Lord may be gone but he's not dead."

"I know." Harry examined the miniature silver clock tower on the mantelpiece. "It's late. I think I should go back now." He turned to Severus and joked, "Won't want to be seen fraternizing with the teachers."

"Brat. Go away before I take points."

"Sweet dreams Professor," Harry said cheekily and ducked out of the door. Standing in the isolated corridor, his smile faded as he remembered Severus's words. It was common sense, he knew, but it's so tiring to keep thinking like that. They are still children. Perhaps in time, when there's a cause for distrust…

--oO—

Harry had almost forgotten about the flying lesson until Draco reminded him. No wonder he had caught more buzzing and chattering about flying and helicopters and Quidditch today. The first-years also seemed more restless during classes, especially those after lunch. He was looking forward to be on a broom again, feeling the wind around him, hanging in mid air doing crazy stunts that made his blood rush to his ears, the wonderful exhilarating feeling of freedom.

They headed to the grounds after class ended. Draco, Blaise, Vincent, Gregory and Pansy were in high spirits. Millicent seemed too quiet while Theodore was his usual self, composed and not talking much. It seemed they had reached there before the Gryffindors. Broomsticks were already laid out neatly in two rows, looking rather battered and worn. Flying on these would be a bit more challenging. He always did like challenges.

The Gryffindors arrived shortly, their loud voices toning down once they neared them. Already, some of the Gryffindors were shooting dirty looks at them and more than a few Slytherins sneered or glared at them. Harry mentally shook his head at the childish rivalry. Which idiot started it anyway?

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" a voice barked. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, was stalking towards them. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry just stood by the nearest broomstick, not bothering to choose since they were all in the same condition – one just as bad as the next.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"'

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Draco succeeded too and he looked pleased with himself. Their eyes met and Harry found himself smiling back at the blonde because the passion for flying was mutual. He looked around and saw that Hermione's broomstick had simply rolled over on the ground and she seemed to be getting more irritated as it still wouldn't respond. Still trying so hard, he sees.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Draco flushed a little when she told him he'd been doing it wrong for years. It might be pride; it might be the snickering Gryffindors opposite them.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -- three-- two --"

But before Madam Hooch could blow the whistle, one of the Gryffindor boys – Longbottom, he realised - started rising off the ground, having kicked off too early.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Longbottom continued ascending rapidly straight up. Harry saw that he had no control of his broom at all, just clinging onto it for dear life and it was pointed the wrong way, going further up still. Longbottom's pale face stared down – Harry can almost hear the gasp – and he fell sideways off the broom and-

Harry winced at the thud and sickening crack sound as Longbottom landed facedown on the grass. Broken wrist. Takes a few weeks to heal; he should know. Not that the nurse will let it heal naturally when it could be fixed with a quick spell.

Madam Hooch was bending over Longbottom, her face as white as his. It's not common to have serious accidents in flying lessons, he supposed.

She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'

"Come on, dear."

Longbottom, his face tear-streaked, clutched his wrist and hobbled off with Madam Hooch who had her arm around him.

Longbottom would be fine. There's nothing much that magic can't fix. Pity it had to end like that though. Harry sighed. He wondered if he needed permission to go flying by himself during his free time, and if he could get it.

Draco nudged him. "Did you see his face?"

"Perhaps he hasn't flown before," Harry said absently.

Draco seemed a little peeved with his lackluster response but a glint of light among green blades caught his eye and he darted forward, snatching something out of the grass. "Look," he said, holding up a clear glass sphere that glittered in the sun. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

Harry took a glance and became interested in the object. "Is that a Remembrall?"

"Don't you take Neville's things, Malfoy. Give it back!" It was the red haired boy. Weasley, Harry recalled. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Draco smiled nastily. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find -- how about up a tree?"

"Give it back!" Weasley yelled.

"Draco, don't be rash," Harry whispered, but Draco had already leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying; he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Weasley!"

More trouble. Harry half-hoped Weasley wouldn't take the bait so Draco would get bored and come down but no, Gryffindors had to live up to their name.

"No!" Hermione shouted as Weasley mounted his broom and kicked off. "Madam Hooch told us not to move. You'll get us all into trouble."

Weasley rose awkwardly, then with more confidence. Harry noticed he didn't have Draco's flair in flying.

"Give it back!"

"You want it? Go get it." Draco threw the Remembrall and smirked at Weasley.

Harry hoped Weasley wasn't going to try to dive – no, he was. Idiots. All idiots, he cursed silently. Madam Hooch would be mad to find that there had been another accident when she got back. And Longbottom would end up with a broken Remembrall.

"Don't be a fool, Weasley. Accio Remembrall!"

The little sphere suddenly sped in the opposite direction towards him and Harry caught it. Draco had landed and he clapped him on the back. "Nice one, Harry."

He smiled tightly. "I didn't do it for show. You could have gotten into trouble if Weasley broke his neck."

Draco shrugged. "I was only having fun. Besides, Weasley knows his limitations and the dangers. He won't dive all the way."

"Perhaps."

Weasley landed in front of them, his face red, obviously angry. "You despicable Slytherins! Tricking me to go after the Remembrall then snatching it back again."

"I saved you from risking a broken neck and a broken Remembrall. But since you're so ungrateful… Hermione."

She was surprised to be called and stepped forward cautiously. "Here," he tossed her the Remembrall, "you give it to Longbottom."

Draco looked at him incredulously while Hermione gave him a small smile. The Gryffindors alternate between staring and glaring at him, and his housemates wore varying looks of disbelief. Well, except Theodore. Nothing much ruffled his composure, it seemed.

"Slimy Slytherin pretending to be kind," Weasley muttered.

"If you're unhappy, I can always throw the Remembrall for you to catch again, Weasley," he snapped.

"What's going on?" Madam Hooch asked, approaching them. Her yellow, hawk-like eyes swept over them sharply.

"We were discussing Quidditch, Professor. It got heated when we came to which team is the best." Harry said smoothly and smiled.

She looked over the group of them and seemingly satisfied, said, "Mr Longbottom is fine, and resting in the infirmary. We will continue the lesson another time. You are dismissed."

They dispersed, muttering among themselves. Some expressed disappointment at not having flown while others expressed relief at not having to fly, but most were whispering about the Remembrall incident.

"Why did you do that for?" Draco demanded once Madam Hooch was out of earshot, arms crossed over his chest.

"You had your fun. So I gave it back." Draco still didn't look too happy so he added, "I didn't want you to get into trouble."

Draco thought for a while then smiled and said, "All right, you're forgiven."

The way a spoilt rich boy thinks… Harry reflected, amused.

"And thanks," Draco said, almost as an afterthought.

At least he's polite.

oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--oO--

Thanks to all reviewers! I appreciate all the comments and suggestions. Still haven't decided which one to do. I may finish year one then just move on to interesting scenes. With luck, this story shouldn't be left hanging forever.

ETA - athenakitty: thanks for the shelf/shelves correct.

Please review! Comments/ thoughts on characterisation/ writing/ dialogue etc welcomed.


	15. Chapter 14

Dear Dan,

Hope you are well. Sorry for the late reply but school just started and I've been busy settling down. Things have been smooth so far. Teachers are still the same regardless, some strict, some boring (and others incompetent). There's some serious inter-house rivalry going on which I think is stupid because people just pick on each other for being in rival houses. Don't you think this just encourages more fights and trouble? Apparently it has a long history that goes back a thousand years. Rather silly if you asked me. But don't worry, I'll make friends.

How's school and work? Tell me if the old man is mean again. I'll think of something. Don't overwork yourself. We'll meet up again during winter holidays okay? Give my regards to Aunt Tia and Uncle Richard. Take care.

Love, Harry

--Oo--

He walked through the halls, nodding absently to the Ravenclaw ghost and a few older Slytherins he recognised. There were no students in the owlery, perhaps because it was so near to curfew. Harry looked around and a brown barn owl flew down to perch on the stand near him. He petted her and tied the letter to her feet.

"Bring this to Dan and stay for a reply. He'll have a treat for you."

The owl hooted and took off.

Harry headed back to his dorms, wrapping his scarf more securely around his neck.

"Would you like to explore?"

"I don't like the cold," Sandy hissed from his arm.

It was a windy night, he thought absently.

"Another day then. You can warm up by the fire when we get back."

"Yesssss."

"Someone seems to be following us," Sandy hissed.

He noticed the faint footsteps now that Sandy mentioned it. Harry walked on, but turned at the next corner and hid in one of the alcoves. Someone walked past and he heard the puzzled question 'where did he go?'.

"Looking for me?" he asked, coming out just as the other person walked past, almost knocking into him.

"Oh! Potter. You startled me."

Harry blinked. "Longbottom?"

Of all people to be following him, he didn't expect it to be Longbottom.

"Err… yes," he tugged at his collar. "I err… wanted to thank you for saving my Remembrall."

Harry looked at him. Longbottom fidgeted.

"You're welcomed," he said finally, trying to keep the amusement out of his reply.

Was it so terrifying to talk to him or was it a Slytherin- Gryffindor thing?

"I hope your wrist is better."

"Oh." Longbottom beamed. "It is. Madam Pomfrey healed it in about a minute but only let me out of the Hospital Wing after dinner."

The wonders of magic, he mused. Healed in a minute instead of a few weeks, without the prolonged discomfort and inconvenience of injury.

"That's nice. Well I have to go back. It's almost curfew. Wouldn't do to be caught by Filch so soon."

Harry gave a half-smile.

Longbottom looked around cautiously, as if searching for the caretaker who might be lurking in the hallway waiting to catch them.

"Yes. I'd better get going too. Bye!"

"Bye." He watched for a while as Longbottom disappeared round the corner then continued his way to the dormitories. He wouldn't have expected Longbottom to specially look for him to thank him. Some people had better upbringing, he supposed.

Harry frowned. Was he letting house prejudices affect his opinion of people? No, just expectations. Opinion of people is affected by their actions. Upbringing had nothing to do with house. At least until one was sorted and became influenced by the masses.

Unless one was brought up with those prejudices, then it starts earlier. So upbringing had to do with house?

He shook his head mentally. The hour was too late for introspection; he's getting all confused, going round and round the mental track.

Harry slipped into the common room. It was much quieter than when he left, only a few of his housemates were still lounging by the fireplace and common area, chatting, doing work. He went to bed, planning to go flying early tomorrow morning, and fell asleep with a smile on his face, Sandy curled up beside his head on his pillow.

--Oo--

"Hey," he greeted cheerfully, settling in beside Blaise.

"Harry," he said, looking up from his breakfast. "We didn't see you this morning when we got up. Where did you go?"

"Oh nowhere. I just woke early and went out for a morning walk."

Harry started helping himself to the food, egg, bacon, bread and fruits filling his plate. Blaise watched him oddly.

"Of course," he said, rolling his eyes, "a morning walk got you in such high spirits."

Harry grinned and kept quiet, eating his breakfast. The adrenaline and thrill of flying was still making him high. Although the old school broom wasn't as good as the one he had at home, it was still better than none and not being able to fly at all.

"Fine, keep your secrets. We're going to the Quidditch Pitch later to watch the team practise. You coming along?"

"I have to finish-"

"Oh no you don't. No doing homework on Saturdays." Blaise mock-glared at him.

He considered. It'll be fun to watch the Quidditch team in action even though it's not a match. He had not actually seen a Quidditch game or a full team playing before. And he should spend more time with his year-mates and cultivate friendships. After all, they would be spending seven years together.

"Since you're so persistent, I suppose that half transfiguration essay can wait," he drawled.

"Prat. If you're done with your breakfast…"

"I will be if you let me eat in peace."

Blaise huffed and crossed his arms. Draco came over.

"We're going to the Pitch now," he said.

"I'm still waiting for His Highness to finish eating," Blaise said, nodding to Harry.

"All right, all right, I'm done." Harry put down his utensils, wiped his lips with a napkin and stood up.

They walked out together, talking about the Slytherin team – 'they should be pretty good. They did win for the past few consecutive years.'- until a sudden question from Vincent about a recent Charms essay assignment sparked a discussion on Charms theory like how wand movement is similar for same-type Charms and why the wrong movement may affect the strength or nature of the spell.

When they reached the Pitch, the players had already warmed up and were doing drills. The Chasers were trying to pass the Quaffle in a formation while the Beaters practised disrupting their attempts by hitting Bludgers towards the thrower or the targeted receiver. The Keeper and Captain, Marcus Flint he recalled, occasionally shouted at a Beater for lousy aim or a Chaser for not dodging fast enough and failing to execute fast and accurate passes. He managed to block most of the attempts to score but maybe because after having trained together for so long, he can roughly predict which hoop a particular Chaser was aiming at.

They sat down at a bench, watching the practice avidly. The Beaters and Bludgers were brutal. Those Chasers really have a lot on their plate to look out for. It may get better or worse during an actual match as there'll be more players running interference but there'll also less focused attention on any team's member.

Harry looked around for the Seeker and spotted Terence flying at a higher altitude, cruising for the Snitch, he supposed. That's almost relaxing, Harry thought, until a stray bludger hurtled towards said Seeker. Terence rolled upside down just in time to avoid the Bludger hitting him.

"Watch your aim!" Terence scowled.

"Marcus asked me to wake you up," a sandy-haired boy replied, grinning.

All the players landed, most of them looking winded and flushed, especially the Chasers.

"I can't wait for an actual match," said Draco.

Harry agreed that it'll be interesting but privately thought that he'd rather be flying than watching. Maybe he should try out next year. Or…

"How about having a mock Quidditch game one of these weekends?"

"On what? The old school brooms?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose at the idea.

Harry shrugged. "It'll be more fun than not doing anything."

"We don't have enough people," Gregory said.

"We can ask the upper-years or just make do with any number we have."

"I doubt the upper-years would bother with us," Theodore said, while his finger stopped tracing something on the bench absently.

"No harm trying. There's not much to do anyway. We can't even go to Hogsmeade."

"I'm not using the old school brooms," Draco said, folding his arms.

Harry sighed, a little disappointed. "Never mind. Since no one's interested." He stood up. "I'm going back to the dorms to finish up my homework. See you guys later."

"I need to go too." Theodore stood up and they walked back together.

It was hard finding something to say to fill the silence. Theodore doesn't talk much, although he was mostly polite and would answer when spoken to. Harry didn't know much about the quiet boy except that his father was a Death Eater and he was good in Transfiguration. He occasionally got letters from home but wouldn't share its contents freely, unlike Draco. He's more of a loner and Harry realised that he doesn't hang out much with anyone outside of classes. It's a pleasant surprise that he actually came along with them today.

"Are you going to try out for Quidditch next year?" Harry asked.

Theodore gave no indication of having heard his question. "I might," he said after a while, not looking at Harry.

Sensing that he's unwilling to carry on meaningless chatter, Harry left it at that and the silence held all the way until they reached their dorm and each went about their own business.

--Oo--

"Are you really going to meet Weasley for the midnight duel?"

"Of course not," Draco smirked. "Filch will be glad to take care of them."

Blaise frowned at him. "That's not very nice…"

Draco raised an eyebrow. Blaise mimicked him. And both burst out laughing.

--Oo—

"There's something weird about Weasley today," Harry remarked, helping himself to some pancakes. Weasley was alternating between glaring at them and looking smug while whispering with another boy, ignoring Hermione's occasional glares and dirty looks.

"Looks like they didn't get caught by Filch," Blaise said, noting there was no change in Gryffindor's house points.

"What did you do?"

"Not me. Draco challenged Weasley to a midnight duel and informed Filch some first years would be in the trophy room."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Draco should stop antagonising the Gryffindors."

"Where would I get my fun then?" Draco drawled.

--Oo--

Someone rushed past him with a stifled sob, knocking into his left shoulder. He rubbed his shoulder and turned, catching a glimpse of bushy brown hair before it disappeared round the corner.

Hermione?

"Come on Harry, we're going to be late for Charms."

"Coming," he said, catching up with his classmates.

--Oo—

At the Halloween Feast, Harry scanned the Gryffindor table for Hermione but didn't see her anywhere. The uneasy feeling that has been hanging over him the whole day deepened, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the occasion or because of his missing friend.

Friend? Were they friends?

He frowned, moving his food around absently on the plate.

"You ok?" Blaise asked.

"Yar, just not very hungry." Harry stood up. "I'm going for a walk."

He left before Blaise could say anything.

"Sandy?"

The snake poked her head out from under his robe's long sleeves. "Yesss?"

"Can you help me find Hermione?"

"Don't sense any humans nearby."

"Ok. Tell me when you sense something."

He continued walking, thinking it'll be rather impossible to find her when he had no idea where she was. Perhaps he should just talk to Hermione tomorrow.

"Don't go there," Sandy hissed suddenly. "There's something nasty."

"What-"

A frightened scream further down cut him off, followed by a loud crashing sound.

"Harry!" Sandy hissed as he ran towards the source of trouble, wand in hand.

"Herminone!" cried Harry as he saw the scene.

She screamed as the troll brought its club down and across the cubicles, broken pieces of plaster flying everywhere. The troll was blocking the door and she couldn't risk being hit by running across where there's nothing to cover her.

"Stupefy!"

The stunner that hit the troll's back only made it turn around slowly, having no effect whatsoever as its thick skin protects it against basic spells. The troll took a step towards him.

"Diffindo!"

The spell slashed across the troll's belly but was not enough to cut it open. Still, it hurt the troll as blood started to seep from the wound. It let out a roar of rage and swung the club at him. Harry rolled out of the way but his arm caught a glancing blow.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed as the troll advanced in his direction. She threw some of the broken debris at the troll, hoping to distract it.

"Hey, you stupid troll!"

"Bloody hell," he cursed, as pain shot through his arm. "Avis!"

A flock of birds flew towards the troll and it batted at them clumsily.

"Incarcerous!"

Ropes bound themselves around the troll's legs and arms, causing it to lose balance and fall.

"Come on! The ropes won't hold for long," Harry said.

Hremione ran to him and both of them quickly got out.

"Mr Potter! Miss Granger! Why aren't you in your dormitory with the other students? Do you know there's a troll on the loose?" Professor McGonagall said, hurrying towards them with Professor Snape not far behind.

"We just met the troll. It's in the girls' bathroom," he said calmly, avoiding Severus's furious glare.

Hermione stared at him incredulously at his choice of words. "Harry got hit by the troll's club, Professor."

"To the Hospital Wing, Mr Potter," snapped Professor Snape.

"Yes, sir."

"You too, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said. "And five points each for not obeying instructions."

"We didn't know about the troll or any instructions, Professor. We left the feast early."

Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"Why did you leave earlier?"

Harry looked away and muttered, "I couldn't stand the cheerful atmosphere on Halloween, Professor. Hermione offered to accompany me."

Professor's McGonagall expression softened and she gave him a sympathetic look. Severus just narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Very well. Please inform someone next time," she said. "Let Mdm Pomfrey check for injuries and return to your dormitory."

"See me tomorrow morning, Mr Potter."

"Yes, sir," Harry murmured.

"Severus…"

"I don't interfere when you manage your Gryffindors, Minerva."

Harry and Hermione made their way to the Hospital Wing. He could feel her anxious glances and was beginning to get annoyed.

"I'm fine," he said, "the injury is nothing life- threatening."

"You could have died! And all you said was 'we just met the troll' like it was some tea party?"

"So could you," he reminded. "But we didn't, and that's all that matters."

She opened her mouth, then closed it wordlessly.

"Why weren't you at the feast?" he asked after a stretch of silence.

"I was- upset."

"For the whole afternoon?"

"Mood swing," she said shortly.

"Liar."

She glared at him, then sighed. "Ron said I was an insufferable know-it-all, and that's why I don't have any friends."

Harry tilted his head. "Are we friends?"

Hermione looked at him uncertainly. "Yes?"

"There you go," he said. "Weasley doesn't know anything about you."

She gave him a small grateful smile. "Thanks. For everything."

"You're welcome."

Madam Pomfrey took a look at them and started fussing. Hermione had some superficial cuts from the debris, which were easily healed with a spell. The nurse gave her a Dreamless Sleep potion and sent her back to the dormitory.

"Hermione?"

She turned around. "Yes?"

"You're smart. Don't let them get you down."

She smiled. "Thanks. Good night, Harry."

"Night."

His arm was fractured and there were a few shallow cuts. The cuts were healed quickly but his arm needed to be set overnight with an accelerated healing spell and Madam Pomfrey wanted him to stay the night so she could check the result tomorrow. She gave him a pain relief potion and Dreamless Sleep which took effect immediately as darkness claimed him.


End file.
